


Finder's Keeper

by HachimansKitsune



Category: Labyrinth (1986)
Genre: BDSM, Demons, F/F, F/M, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-17
Updated: 2018-05-06
Packaged: 2018-08-22 21:19:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 12
Words: 81,717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8301499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HachimansKitsune/pseuds/HachimansKitsune
Summary: Sometimes even the Goblin King needs help. His sister is missing and as it turns out, she isn't the only one. Unable to track her, he has to turn to the only being who has the ability to track people across the mortal realm to the 'Lands Beyond' and back again - The Finder. But in finding the Goblin King's sister, will the Finder find a Keeper as well? (Urban Fantasy)





	1. Chapter 1

**Finder’s Keeper**

**Author’s Note: Just a little plot bunny that has been nibbling at me and wouldn’t let me work on my other work-in-progress until I wrote it down. If people like the premise, I may continue it. I’ve got it plotted out – it is really a matter of finding the time and energy to write more often.**

**Ch. 1 Out of Time and Place**

Dense wisps of fog pressed close as the slender figure stepped out of the shadows between two buildings. Glancing out into the packed streets of the DarqueMyst, the man pulled the collar of his long, black wool coat up around his ears, before turning and starting down the sidewalk. The tall man deftly side-stepped a drunk that fell from a nearby entryway, thrown out the door of a bar when he ran out of coin. Crystalline eyes narrowed as a wave of stale alcohol assailed his nose. The withered old drunk clutched at the wool of his coat, gaping up at him with rheumy eyes. “Spare a bit of coin, Sir?”

Twisting sharply, the man in the long black coat pushed past the begging drunk, a low growl rumbling in his chest at the audacity of the old fool. “Go sleep it off!” he ordered, in the cold tone of one who was accustomed to being obeyed – not accosted on a public street. Slender gloved hands twisted the grey cashmere scarf around his neck, before buttoning the coat higher upon his chest, as if doing so would block out the unease that suffused him in this place.

This was not the sort of place an honorable man should travel -- this den of iniquity that bordered the human world and ‘The Lands Below’. Of course, there were many who would argue that he was anything but honorable. And ordinarily he might agree with them, but tonight he was a man on a quest, and it was that which gave him honour.

Looking upward, he could see the shadows of the skyscrapers and apartment buildings of the human world, shrouded in the steel grey fog of the DarkMyst and for an instant, he wished he were there instead of this forsaken waypost between worlds. In the human world he was a man out of sync with their time and place, but here he was just another being of many traversing the mysts in search of something that can’t be found in the human world, or the Lands Below. 

Sure steps took him deeper within DarkMyst, the nearly empty street morphing slowly until he was just one of many wayfarers in the realm. All around him towered closely packed buildings, the fog that sheltered this street ‘out of time and place’ from the human world curling thickly above them, blocking out the last faint outlines of the human city. His lips curled in distain at the sight of the scantily clad woman upon the corner, calling out to the passersby, attempting to hawk her dubious services.

“Hey blondie… you won’t find anyone better than me in anywhere in the DM! I do it all, baby.”

Nearing the woman on the corner, his blue eyes flickered red as he looked at her, making her shrink back from him. He took his time looking her over, taking in her short leather skirt and the dirty vest that revealed more than it hid. Along the side of her throat he saw a flash of raised reddish-pink flesh, curled in the shape of a wolf. His nostrils flared, breathing deep of the air around her. The scent was heady, a mix of fresh blood and loam – the hallmarks of the Lupine clan.

“Not interested.”

“Hey…don’t be racist, mate!” she called back as he walked past her without a second look.

Turning down a side alley, he steeled himself for what he must do. The alley was tinged red from the lights outside the entryways of the various ‘establishments’ that lined each side of the narrow passage, their front windows filled with flyers, faded signs and buzzing neon signs proclaiming everything from “Best Drinks in the Myst” to “Girls! Girls! Hot Girls!” Ignoring the signs and calls of the girls hanging from balconies and windows over the alleyway, he stalked deeper into the myst, finally stopping in front of a blue door, emblazoned with gold lettering that flickered red, like a dying neon light – without the benefit of being neon or a light.

Kintrax, proclaimed the letters, seeming to buzz briefly as they glowed red, then faded to dull gold once more.

This was the place.

The man locked eyes with the hulking, mountain of a bouncer standing next to the door, his thin lips pursing in challenge. Black eyes regarded the man in the long coat silently, nearly lost against the pebbled grey of the bouncer’s skin. _‘A golem as a bouncer,’_ the man mused silently. In this land out of time and place, it wasn’t unusual to run across creatures both supernatural and preternatural, as well as fantasy. He should not have been surprised to see a golem, but to see one made of what appeared to be cold lava, certainly did surprise him.

Sniffing, the golem glared back, clearly unphased by being treated as a threat. “We don’t get many of your kind here.”

“Fae?”

“No, we get plenty of those from both sides. I meant the fact that you are unaligned. You’re either rogue or one of ‘The Three’. And ain’t no way one of ‘Them’ would be caught out here.”

The blonde man’s lips twisted into a cold sneer. “Then you’d better hope I am rogue and not of ‘The Three’, since you are holding me back from that which I seek, golem.”

A flicker of wary concern shone briefly in the black eyes of the mountainous golem guarding the door. Reaching for the handle, he moved to pushed it open, admitting the unaligned Fae. “Be warned, Fae. All who enter Kintrax are bound at the command of Mama Khun. No magic can be used within these walls. Violence of any kind, directed at patrons or staff will not be tolerated and will be dealt with swiftly. Enter seeker.”

With a surprisingly light touch, the blue door swung inward, revealing a pale purple vortex, swirling in the doorway. The man in the black coat looked at it a moment, torn. He had searched the human world and the Lands Below for that which was lost – to no avail. There was one person who he had been told could help and that person now lay beyond the purple portal. If it were not for his quest, he would never allow his powers to be bound by anyone or anything, but for the first time in his very long life, he had no choice. Taking a deep breath he stepped through the glowing purple vortex. For a brief instant he felt as if the world around him were spinning, an odd sucking sensation flitting against his exposed skin, before it settled into a soothing warm.

“Say pax and enter, friend,” whispered an unseen voice.

Opening his eyes, the man found himself in a purple hallway, the lights overhead flickering dimly. He walked swiftly down the corridor, irritation gnawing at him. He hated the DarkMyst on principle, knowing that anyone who did business with the denizens of this land both within and without was suspect as to their motives – no matter what their alignment. Self-loathing needled him at the fact that he had been reduced to just such a measure.

Music swelled as he neared the curtained doorway at the end of the hall, then stepped into Kintrax. Flipping down the collar of his wool coat, he began to unbutton the coat as he walked toward the bar. For a demon bar, it was better than most. For starters, there was no slime underfoot and the room didn’t reek of spilled blood and gore. He leaned lightly against the bar, looking around. At one end of the room was a stage with a cage at either side and a small ‘runway’ stretching into the room. A Gryax female wearing a tiny chain bikini wriggled inside one of the cages, the tentacles extending from the back of her neck, sensuously sliding up and down her body. In the other case, a Moon Elf gyrated to the music that thumped deeply through the floor. A purple door on the other side of the main room was guarded by another lava golem, his tree trunk sized arms crossed over his chest as he watched the room.

Around the club sat groups of demons, immortals and other supernatural creatures – some drinking, some eating and still others appearing to be conducting ‘business’, the nature of which the man was unwilling to consider.

“What can I getcha?”

Caught by surprise, the man growled under his breath as he looked up at the other-worldly  visage of the wraith bartender as he floated on the other side of the bar. _‘No wonder I didn’t hear him approach – bloody wraiths,’_ he snarled inwardly. He could deal with just about any supernatural, preternatural or fantasy being, but wraiths made him irrationally angry.

“I’m looking for someone.”

The bartender laughed and nodded toward the purple door. “Well, if you have the coin Mama Khun’s girls are clean and _very_ friendly.”

“I’m not looking for a whore,” the blonde man snapped, his eyes flickering red as a gloved hand clenched upon the top of the bar.

Shrugging, the bartender wipes a clean glass with a cloth. “Well, if the girls aren’t your thing, the local beat is in the old subway entrance to the human world up the street.”

“I’m not here to get laid. If wanted mere release, there are enough willing takers in my own realm,” snarled the blond man, a faint pulse of bound magic shivering in the air around him, until he winced from the lance of pain that shot through him – much to the amusement of the wraith.

“Mama Khun’s portal packs a wallop when you magical types try to use your power.”

Swallowing hard, the man in the long black coat counted to ten slowly, waiting for the magical backlash to diminish before speaking. “I was told that I could meet ‘The Finder’ here.”

The bartender arched a phantom eyebrow at him and nodded toward a booth at the back of the club, near the purple door leading to the ‘private’ rooms. Following his nod, the man in the black coat glanced toward the booth.  Two figures sat in the back of the booth. A pale man whose skin seemed oddly luminescent despite the dim light of the club, sat against the back of the booth, his black button down shirt making the pearlescent sheen of his skin seem that much brighter. Next to him was a cloaked figure petting a small blue dragon sitting on the table. The hood of the cloak was pulled low over the person’s face, until the all that could be seen was a hint of stark white hair and a pair of scarlet lips, above a heavy leather collar, from the front of which dangled a sapphire amulet. Attached to the collar was a finely wrought chain extending to the man’s hand.

Growling to himself, the blonde man fought the urge to leave. No matter how many times he had ventured into demon strongholds, he never understood their need to keep slaves. His anger cooled at bit, seeing the ruby lips curling into a smile as the small blue dragon revealed itself to be not a dragon, but an ice-fire elemental, when it burst into sapphire flame.

With an irritable tug on his cashmere scarf, the blond man made his way toward the booth, his pale blue eyes flitting around the room, noting the vampyre’s playing cards by the wall, and the mountain troll heckling the strippers on the stage, while a group of rowdy drow took bets on how long it would be before a golem unceremoniously removed the troll from the premises.

“I seek the one known as The Finder.”

The pale man tilted his head, gazing at the blonde with the penetrating golden gaze of an incubus. “Many do. Why should The Finder bother with you, fairy boy?”

Glaring at the incubus, the blonde clenched his fist at his side, forcing back the pulse of magic that longed to lash out at the insolent demon. Something about the incubus felt off to him, but in a place such as this most beings felt ‘off’ in some way. “Are you the Finder?”

“That depends, what do you need the Finder for?”

“I suppose the obvious answer is that I need the Finder to _find_ someone for me,” the blonde snapped. “Look, I have no time for games. Are you the Finder or not? The task I have been charged with is urgent. If you can’t help just say and let me go.”

The incubus’ golden eyes blinked slowly as he looked at the blonde man. “Have a seat and we can discuss the task and terms of payment.”

Pulling out the single chair tucked under the end of the booth, the man in the black wool coat sat down, his eyes hard as he glowered at the incubus. From the corner of his eye he watched the figure next to him, smile once more, a delicate and distinctly female hand stroking the ice-fire elemental, as it blew smoke rings toward the ceiling. “My sister has gone missing from her lodging in the human world.”

“You are Fae,” the demon stated matter-of-factly. “Can you not find her yourself?”

His lips pulling tight in a frown, the blonde man shook his head, irritation at the invasive question warring with his own fear over the fate of his sister. “No. Through the familial link I should be able to track her, but she is blocked from me…from the whole family.”

The incubus steepled his fingers, tapping them lightly against his chin. “The only way to break the familial link of Fae lineage is via marriage or death. What makes you think she didn’t run off and marry a mortal?”

Another jolt of pain seared down his spine as his anger fought to burst forth once more. Gasping from the lightning ache, the blonde man growled. “She would never dishonor our family in such a way. And I know she lives because I can feel her heartbeat – it exists, but is too faint for me to track.”

As he spoke to the incubus, the blonde man barely noticed the woman pulling her slender hands back within the cloak that hid her. The dragon curled on the table looked up, ignoring him and glaring over his shoulder, before bursting into scarlet flames and flying straight up in the air, a jet of crimson flame shooting across the club. “Jareth, down!” the woman in the cloak ordered, leaping onto the table and throwing the side of the midnight cloak over the startled Fae. Hidden beneath the ebony folds, Jareth was immediately aware of the woman’s minimal clothing – dressed in the silks and chains that befitted an incubus’s sex slave. Before he could turn his mind fully to how a simple demon sex slave would know his true name, he felt two hard thuds against his back, then heard the clang of heavy metal hitting the floor behind his chair. Looking down, he saw two iron blades laying on the floor – blades which should have easily torn through the thin cloak and killed him.

“Shalya anor riaash!” the woman hissed, launching herself from the table top toward a Drow assassin now standing in the middle of the room, holding another iron blade. Her hood fell back, revealing stark white hair, with two pitch black streaks framing a face that featured a pair of startling purple eyes. Amazed by her ethereal beauty and preternatural speed, he watched in awe as she whirled on the attacker, an obsidian blade in each hand. The Drow grunted, dodging her blade too slow to avoid receiving a ragged gash along the side of his face. Lost in watching her, Jareth nearly missed the moment a second Drow creeping around the stage, pulled a blade from his robes. Black eyes locked on Jareth’s. The drow’s lips twisted up in a sneer before he let the blade fly -- straight toward Jareth’s heart. Without thinking, Jareth waved his hand toward the knife, only to feel a horrific bolt of pain slicing through his frontal lobe from the magical backlash, the pain so vicious it dropped him gasping to his knees.

“Rylinish!” the woman roared, flinging her cloak over Jareth, then flipping herself forward to slam the heel of her foot into the first Drow’s throat. Grasping the sapphire amulet of her collar, the Drow ripped it free as he fell.

Throwing the cloak from his body, Jareth whirled, crouching in preparation for the next attack. Overhead, the ice-fire elemental blasted the second Drow with a jet of arcane fire, an agonized shriek filling the club as sheets of blue fire roared over the assassin’s body. Stumbling toward the door, the assassin threw his last blade. Seeing the movement too late, Jareth steeled himself for the inevitable pain – pain that never came. With a banshee shriek the woman launched herself toward Jareth, landing in front of him with a bone-wrenching thud. In the same motion she waved her hand at the iron blade as it whistled through the air toward its target. Panting, Jareth looked at the blade, shocked to find it hanging motionless in the air, suspended in a shimmering crystal cage.

Through the purple door burst a willowy Moon Elf, her skin a pale blue, which accented the shimmering purple hair that was plaited and wrapped around her head, framing the long, pointed ears that curled back from her head. She pushed her way through the stunned patrons, the silk of her kimono robes rustling with each step. “Assassin!! They tried to kill the Crown Prince! Take them to the Netherworld High Court!” she ordered, snapping her fingers, as two more golems appeared from behind the stage, grabbing the wounded assassin’s and dragging them toward the doors.

“Crown Prince?” the woman beside him panted, pushing her hair back from her face. Leaning against him, she pushed herself upright, the thin material of her top having shifted during the fight, revealing the rosy edge of a nipple. 

Turning to look at the remarkable woman, Jareth blinked, moving to tug her top back up, only to stop and rub his eyes. Her white hair and purple eyes were gone, replaced with brunette tresses and green eyes that had haunted his dreams and nightmares for 8 years. Against all odds, even in a place as odd as this place, the face of a dead woman was staring back at him.

“Sarah?” he murmured in disbelief.

Seeing people staring at her, Sarah frowned, snatching up the cloak and throwing it over herself. She pushed up from the floor, before reaching down and grabbing the Goblin King’s hand. Jareth flinched when she touched him, expecting the icy touch of a spectre, only to be relieved by the warmth of her hand on his wrist. He allowed himself to be pulled to his feet. Still reeling from seeing his dead Champion at long last, Jareth watched her hook two fingers behind her lower lip and blow a shrill whistle that echoed shrilly in the club. Hissing and popping, the small ice-fire element flew up to the two of them, settling on Sarah’s shoulder, once more in the shape of a small blue dragon.

“Come on. We can’t stay here any longer,” she muttered, dragging him toward the purple door. With her leading the way, the golem on guard didn’t show any interest in stopping them.

“Oh, so the incubus is your pimp?” Jareth growled, as she pulled him up the stairs leading to the private rooms on the upper floors. “You work here, then?”

Sarah paused in front of a door on the second floor, her fingers lightly tracing an invisible sigil upon the wood before it opened. “Not anymore,” she replied, dumping the cloak on the neatly made bed, and sitting the small elemental dragon on top of it. Turning she picked up a battered leather satchel from a chair in the corner.

While there was no doubt in his mind what these rooms were meant for, the array of weaponry, maps and bits of body armor littering this small room, alongside half-eaten meals and bits of make-up, suggested that Sarah was definitely not the average ‘girl’ in Mama Khun’s stable. Frowning, Jareth turned his attention back to the brunette in the slave silks, puzzled by the way she was grabbing papers and personal items from the desk and dresser, then cramming them carelessly into the leather satchel.

Sarah dropped to her knees, reaching under the desk and feeling around. Biting the tip of her tongue in concentration, she hummed softly, then grinned as a soft ‘snick’ sound was heard. “I work here…but I don’t ‘work’ here,” she said cryptically. Sliding a small wooden panel to the side, she triggered a hidden drawer under the desk. Jareth watched in surprise as she pulled two glittering obsidian ‘demon killer’ blades from hiding place and deftly strapped them into leather harnesses on her forearms. Bending her wrist sharply, she nodded her approval as one of the wickedly serrated blades neatly deposited itself in her hand. With a grin, she pushed it back into the holster and pushed to her feet, wiggling her fingers at Jareth. “Turn around, I’ve got to change.”

Still trying to process everything he had learned in the last 15 minutes, Jareth turned around without argument. “So if you aren’t a whore, why were you leashed to the incubus downstairs? For that matter, why are you dressed like a demon sex slave?”

Catching sight of her reflection in a mirror, he watched as she jerked a fuzzy blue sweater over her head, then unfastened the chainmail and silk top when she was covered, dropping it unceremoniously on the floor with a rattling clank. “The incubus is called ‘Frank’ and he’s an illusion. The damn Drow tore my amulet off and broke my glamour and killed ‘Frank’,” she grumbled. “Even in the shadow realms, most people wouldn’t consider doing business with a woman, even if that woman’s business is something they need. So he is my ‘partner’ so to speak. It’s safer for me if people think I’m just a demon sex slave.”

Jareth bristled at the thought that anyone could view the Labyrinth Champion in such a way. Running his hand through his hair, Jareth forced himself to put that thought aside. “But why a brothel?” he asked, still watching, fascinated as she snatched up a pale pink bra and pulled it up under the sweater.  He couldn’t help but marvel at the way she could maneuver the underpinnings on, despite being covered by the sweater.

“When you do a lot of work for other-worldly creatures, you can’t exactly open an office on any old street corner,” she shrugged, snatching up a pair of pink knickers from the floor and pulling them up her legs. The realization that she had been nude under the slave silks while she had been fighting the Drow assassin’s made his blood rush heatedly through his veins.

 _‘She looks like my Sarah – but she has definitely changed,’_ he mused. When she began to unfasten the skirt of the slave silks, Jareth finally forced his gaze elsewhere – his eyes falling to a linen bound book of faded red laying half spilling out of her leather satchel. The Labyrinth.  “So why are you packing?”

Hearing a zip behind him, Jareth peered in the mirror again, only to find Sarah looking at him in the glass. She pursed her lips, then huffed, shaking her head. “You just had two assassin’s try to kill you. Surely you aren’t that monumentally stupid not to understand a simple thing like self-preservation?” she snarked, snatching up another leather bag and shoving the rest of her personal  belongings into it, before flopping onto the bed and pulling on a pair of simple heeled boots. “Thanks to your friends trying to kill you, everyone in the bar now knows there is something ‘unusual’ about me. Mama Khun will keep a lid on it and she has the power to modify the memories of most of the people down there, but that’s no guarantee I am safe here. So… it’s best if I use another hub for a bit,” she added tugging on a leather duster that curled gently around her ankles when she moved. Sarah threw her satchel strap across her body, then cinched the catches of the backpack tight, before slipping it over her shoulders. With a sigh she looked around the room, then picked up the elemental and opened a black velvet pouch on her hip. The small blue dragon spouted a long cascade of purple smoke rings, shrinking in size with each one until it was no bigger than a chicken egg. “In you go, Shian,” she said, slipping the miniature elemental dragon into the pouch and pulling it closed as a tiny wisp of smoke curled out of the top of it. Looking up at him, she moved toward the open window then stopped, her hand on her hip. “So, do you still want the Finder to help you?”

“I… I don’t know.”

Rolling her eyes in exasperation, she grumbled. “Are you going to be a sexist asshat too? Seriously, Jareth? You came into a bar that bound your powers, just to speak to the Finder about your case – and now that you know the Finder is a woman, you have cold feet? If you want my help, come on. If not, go find someone else.” Muttering to herself, Sarah swung out the window, her feet hooking easily into the ladder attached to the side of the building.  

“You’re really going to go out that way?” he asked, peering out the window after her. The illusion of the building itself had him thinking they were only on the second floor, but judging from the distance between the window and the ground below, they were at least on the 8th floor – or higher.

Sarah laughed and started to climb the ladder. “Did you have a better idea for how to get out of here without being seen again? The club may have been dim and dark, but you do stand out, Goblin King. And Mama Khun pretty much made sure everyone would remember you were there tonight. It’s probably best for everyone if they think you’re spending the evening ‘partaking’ of the pleasures of the Kintrax brothel. Unless you _want_ people to think you can’t get it up…in which case, you’re welcome to head out the front door again.”

An irritated growl rumbled in his chest at her jibe. “I could transport us.”

 “With what magic?” Sarah laughed. “It’s bound until you are out of the shadow of the building. So is mine – for the most part.”

Gingerly stepping out onto the ladder, Jareth looked up at the brunette woman who was, even now, turning his world upside down. “I thought it was a trick of the light when I saw you stop the blade downstairs.  How did you do it?”

Smiling, Sarah started to climb upward again. “You can have the story later…for a price. For now we really need to get out of here.”

“Hey…you’re going the wrong way…the ground is that way,” Jareth called, nodding toward the ground.

“Who says I’m going toward the ground?” Sarah replied, continuing her upward climb. “The fastest way out of trouble is to get out of the mysts and the best way to get out of the mysts is to climb up. Don’t tell me the mighty goblin king is afraid of heights.”

Reaching the roof, Jareth looked around, frowning. “Now what?”

Sarah grinned, backing up to the far side of the roof. “What’s a little leap of fair, huh, Goblin King?” she called out, then took off running toward the opposite side of the roof. As she neared the edge, Jareth felt his magic flare to life in an attempt to save her.

“Sarah no!”

Reaching the edge of the roof, Sarah nimbly leapt across the gap between the buildings, landing with a thump on the other rooftop. “Are you coming, or not?”

With a shake of his head, Jareth leapt across the gap, following her from roof to room for nearly a block, before she stopped, panting from the exercise, but grinning broadly. “We should be out of Mama Khun’s bubble by now. If you have the power to transport us out of the mysts and back into New York proper, now is the time.”

Crossing his arms over his chest, Jareth glared at the woman, longing to shake her for the risks she was taking, while fighting the urge cup her rosy cheeks and kiss her senseless out of the sheer joy of seeing her alive. His lips pulled into a tight line as he regarded her. “Why should I take you Above? Don’t you know better than to accept favors of the Fae?”

Sarah laughed lightly, nudging his arm. “I learned that lesson the first time – thanks for that by the way. But this isn’t a favor – this is you paying a retainer for my services. You want help to find your sister don’t you?”

Jareth frowned slightly, frustrated by his need of help, and the fact that in all the realms, the one person he had been told would be able to help since all else had failed, was his own Labyrinth Champion. “Yes…I do.”

Nodding, Sarah lightly grasped his arm, her expression serious as she looked at him. “I’ll help you find her, Jareth. You have my word on that.”

“Thank you, Sarah.”

Smiling, she squeezed his arm. “Good. Now that that’s settled I’m starving. You can take us up to Warner Park in Lower Manhattan. I’ve got a pizza date and I don’t want to be late.”

His frown returning, Jareth tensed. “You have a date?”

“Yup… I do,” Sarah beamed as the frown lines across Jareth’s brows deepened. “With Toby. Now let’s go.”

 

* * *

 

As always, please review :)


	2. It's Complicated

Finder’s Keeper

Ch. 2

Their arrival in Lower Manhattan was a quiet affair, witnessed only by a few squirrels riffling through the fall leaves looking for acorns, and a couple of teenagers sitting on a bench beneath a secluded tree – luckily they were more interested in making out, than noticing the sudden arrival of two people in a haze of golden glitter. Knowing how disorienting transporting could be for those not used to it, Jareth went to slip his arm around Sarah to steady her as the ground materialized under their feet.

“What are you doing? I’m fine,” Sarah laughed, shrugging away from his arm and taking steady steps heading down the path toward the street.

“I… you…most people find transporting to be disorienting,” he grumbled, wondering at the odd sensation of embarrassment that gnawed at him. Several quick steps allowed him to catch up with Sarah as she walked briskly down the sidewalk, then turned left at the street. Shoving his hands deep into his coat pockets, he walked alongside her, forcing the unusual feeling down. “It takes people awhile to get used to the sensation.”

Sarah’s amused chuckle puzzled him. “You’re taking a few things for-granted, Goblin King. Like assuming that I am unfamiliar with being transported.”

“But how?”

Sarah glanced at him, a devious smile sparkling in her eyes. “Trust me, Jareth, I’m more than used to transporting your way. You aren’t the only Fae I’ve dealt with in the last 8 years.”

Falling silent, the two walked down the dark city streets. Ordinarily, Jareth would have been drinking in the city around him, enjoying a goblin free evening – instead he was studying Sarah. _‘How is she here?’_ he wondered, watching the way her hair bounced over her back with each step. _‘Hoggle swore he saw her taken and the news reports said she was likely murdered. Yet here she is.’_

Still wondering at how she was walking along with him despite evidence that suggested she shouldn’t be, he nearly walked into her when she stopped in front of an apartment building. The building looked like many in Manhattan, tall and upright. Along the front of the building were floor to ceiling plate glass windows, tinted a deep purple color that was so dark it was nearly black. Sarah stopped in front of the large red double doors. Frowning, Jareth noticed that there was no door knob on the door, just a golden emblem and a button. Stepping close to the door, Sarah cast a furtive glance down the street, then pressed her hand to the golden emblem. A hum of magic buzzed briefly, then the doors slid open.

Without looking at Jareth, Sarah stepped through the doors with the Goblin King right behind her, unwilling to be left on the street should the heavy red doors slide shut. At his age, Jareth had seen many different places in the above, both dejected hovels that should be condemned and elaborate homes of wealth and power – of them all, this was one of the most ornate for an apartment building. The lobby was expansive, with deep red walls and black marble floors. Each step of their feet resonated within the lobby. In the middle of the lobby, between the front door and the bank of elevators at the back, was a large round desk, with a suited guard sitting behind it. The pale guard tilted his head, watching them walk in, his skin preternaturally pale with a faint golden tinge to it. Arching an eyebrow at the odd appearance of the guard, Jareth glanced at the lights, a frown puling at his lips seeing that they were tinted blue, and therefore could not account for the strange tint of the guard’s skin. As they walk up, the guard looked over the top of his glasses,, revealing golden eyes with large, glittering black pupils. Holding out several envelopes, the guard flashed a smile at Sarah. For a brief instant Jareth could see the viciously pointed tips of fangs, before the guard’s lips curled around them once more. The guard’s yellow eyes narrowed upon the Fae, even as he spoke to Sarah in a quiet voice that resonated smoothly through lobby.

“Evening, Saralynne. Who’s your guest?” he asked, sliding a sign-in folder across the slick granite top of the guard station, his golden flecked eyes still locked on Jareth.

Sarah winked at the guard, then picked up the pen and scribbled on the sign-in sheet. “Just a friend, Ian.”

“Is he staying the night or should I have an escort come up for him later?”

For the first time since he had found her in the club, Jareth saw Sarah look unsure of herself – fine pearl teeth worrying momentarily at her lower lip. “He…uh… you know what. I’m not sure yet. I’ll let you know,” she said, taking the mail and flipping through it.

The guard gave her a knowing grin and sat back down in his chair. Giving the newspaper in his hands a sharp ‘snap’ as he opened it once more. Jareth frowned, noting that the newspaper was clearly not meant for humans, as the major story announced ‘Immortal Abductions Continue: Netherworld Security Forces in the Dark’.

“Van Rijin and Toby arrived two hours ago,” Ian said from behind the paper. “And the guy from Romano’s delivered your pizza a few minutes ago, so I had Connie take it up to your place.”

Jareth felt an odd pang of tightness in his throat as Sarah beamed warmly at the guard. She pulled several bills out of her wallet and slid them across the desk. “Thanks for taking care of it for me.” Idly opening an envelope, Sarah turned toward the back of the lobby, the heels of her boots tapping briskly on the highly polished marble floor.

Still eyeing the guard suspiciously, Jareth frowned when Ian laughed, the sound a warm ripple echoing off the stone walls that surrounded the lobby. Jareth however was not amused. “What’s so funny?” he demanded imperiously, shoving his gloved hands deeper in the pockets of his coat.

“Seems there was an assassination attempt on the Crown Prince in the DM tonight,” Ian chuckled. “Poofy ponce probably deserved it. I heard he’s a regular in the DM brothels.”

At his words, Sarah stopped, looking back at the guard station to see Ian wiping tears from his eyes, as the Goblin King bristled. All around him the faint buzz of energy that was always present was growing and getting stronger by the moment.

“Have you ever _met_ him or seen him there?” Jareth asked, his voice as tight as the ticking muscle in his jaw.

“Nah… just heard the stories,” Ian replied, his laughter dying at the withering look from the Fae across the desk. “What? Is he a friend of yours or somethin?”

Opening his mouth to berate the insolent guard, Jareth’s words stopped in his throat at the feel of Sarah hooking her arm in his and bodily turning him away from the desk, her hip tucked neatly under his as she propelled him toward the elevators. “Something like that, Ian. Look, it’s kind of a sore subject between the two of them…and We gotta go. The pizza is getting cold and I’m starving.”

“Oh… as a head’s up, ‘The Owner’ is in residence,” Ian called after her.

Sarah paused. With her arm still linked in Jareth’s, she peered over her shoulder at the guard, her green eyes sparkling brightly. “Thanks for the warning. I’ll be sure to keep the wild orgies quiet this weekend.”

“See that you do!” the guard laughed, picking up his newspaper once more and settling back more comfortably in his chair.

“I thought you weren’t a whore?” Jareth hissed as the brunette tapped the ivory call button on the wall at the back of the lobby.

Rolling her eyes, Sarah shook her head and pulled Jareth into the elevator that opened in front of them. “I’m not. Tell me, do all Fae suffer from having a humorectomy, or just you?” she asked, finally releasing his arm as the elevator door closed. Punching the button for the 9th floor, she leaned against the railing and looked at him. “It was a joke, Goblin King. The Owner just likes residents to keep quiet and not cause problems. Luckily for me, he and I are on good terms.”

The hard look in his blue eyes suggested Jareth wasn’t quite buying it. “If you aren’t a whore, then how does an undead woman manage to live in a place like this?”

“A what?” Sarah asked, her brow furrowing under a fall of brunette waves that cascaded across her forehead. Shoving them behind her ear, she shook her head again. “Undead? Do I _look_ undead to you?” Watching him closely as she tried to understand his claim, Sarah’s confusion derailed briefly at the quick flash of emotion that flickered behind Jareth’s coolly aloof masque – a look that hinted at sadness. Sarah pursed her lips, dismissing it as a trick of the light. _‘Why would the Goblin King think I’m dead?! Muchless be saddened over it,’_ she scolded herself.

Jareth shrugged, leaning against the opposite side of the elevator. “I saw the newspaper reports from your 16th birthday,” he said matter-of-factly. “Signs of a struggle. Copious amounts of blood – yours, they said. ‘No chance of survival’ is what the police report stated.”

“Oh…that,” she muttered, her gaze falling to the floor as she tried to figure out how to begin explaining her situation to him. ‘Its kinda…well…it’s complicated.” Finally registering everything he had said, she blinked at him, “Wait. The police report? You read it? How…Why would you….” Her words fell silent at the stern and definitely authoritative glare from the Fae across from her.

“Complicated? Does this ‘complicated’ explain why the guard downstairs is a vampyre?”

Shrugging, Sarah waved her hand and laughed. “Well, technically Ian is a Daywalker – the full vampyre’s can’t go on duty until the sun goes down,” she caught herself automatically explaining, then cringed as she heard herself sound more like a cryptozoologist than a supernatural bounty hunter.

Without warning, Jareth was in front of her, one hand in her hair as he pulled her head back, the other firmly around her throat. “Open your mouth…show them to me,” he ordered, his pale eyes darkening until they were nearly black.

“Get off me!” Sarah grunted, her hands crossing in front of her and grabbing his wrists, as she twisted under and around him. The hand in her hair ripped free, taking with it strands of dark waves and elicting and angry yelp from Sarah. Around them the elevator shook in its assent, when Sarah slammed Jareth against the wall, his cheek pressed against the glass paneling with so much force they could both hear the tell-tale ‘ticking’ sound of tiny cracks starting to form. “You ever touch me like that again and I won’t be responsible for how badly I hurt you, Goblin King,” she growled, then gave him a firm push against the glass before releasing him. A fine spider-web of cracks skittered across the glass when he stood again, rubbing his cheek and glowering at her. Between them the elevator door opened with a cheerful ‘ding’. “I’m not a vampyre – full or otherwise, if that’s what you’re thinking. Like I said, it’s complicated,” Sarah snapped, then stepped off the elevator and into the hall.

Following her, Jareth felt his feet sink into the plush carpet, graceful swirls of purple and red arching and twining down the hall, set starkly against a black background. The walls were covered with pale purple silk wallpaper, covered with black velveteen designs that matched the swirls of the carpet – the whole décor whispering of money, power, and a flair for the dramatic. If it weren’t for the fact that Sarah began to stalk angrily away from him, Jareth might have spent more time considering just who owned the building. _‘If the building guards are Daywalkers and Vampyre’s, it’s a sure bet The Owner will be one or the other,’_ he thought irritably as he followed Sarah.

Sarah stopped in front of a glossy black door at the middle of the hall, a golden plaque identifying it as ‘Apt. 9G’. Turning to face him, Jareth flinched as she jabbed a black enameled fingernail into his chest. “Look…I know you’re going to have questions about…well everything…and I’ll answer them. But not until Toby goes to bed. Deal? There’s parts of it he is still too young to hear.” Interpreting the way Jareth’s lip curled under his nose as an indicator that another protest or question was coming, Sarah poked him again. “That’s the deal, Goblin King. Take it and you can come in, eat pizza and visit with Toby. Don’t like it – then you can put your Fae ass back on the elevator and leave. Understand?”

Jareth nodded silently.

“Good,” she grumbled, jabbing him once more, this time making contact with his sigil of office. A sudden jolt sizzled between them, leaving Jareth grunting from the burning pain coursing through him, while Sarah shook her hand and cursed. “FuckingHellthatbloodyhurts!”

Fighting to breathe from the pain in his chest, Jareth leaned against the wall next to the door, a gloved hand covering the amulet. “Do…me…a…favor…don’t ever…touch…that…again,” he wheezed, tugging the amulet out from under his shirt and wincing at the heat pouring from it. Cringing, he replaced it, carefully draping the scarf over the spot where the amulet hid, as if the soft cashmere would somehow protect him, when his shirt clearly hadn’t.

The door to the apartment flew open and a small tow-headed boy burst through it, throwing himself at Sarah. Wrapping his arms around her waist and hugging her tight, the child bounced. “Sarah! You’re here! VanRijin said you were working and wouldn’t be home for pizza night.” Pulling her into the apartment without a second look at Jareth, Toby kept chattering away at her.

Jareth’s mind ticked over the number of years it had been since he had seen the boy. _‘He must be at least 10 by now,’_ he thought, marveling at the childish glee of the boy, his voice still carrying the bright trill of youth, that had years to go before it would begin to crack and deepen. Still wincing from the remnants of the odd shock from the amulet, Jareth peered up and down the hall, then followed the siblings into the apartment, the door shutting with a heavy thud behind him. At the sound of the door shutting, the small figure wrapped around Sarah’s middle looked up, then jumped back, almost as if he were embarrassed to be seen showing such a display toward his sister.

“Who’re you?” Toby demanded, stepping between the strange man and Sarah, his little fists positioned on his hips defiantly.

Having discovered full well just how formidable Sarah was, Jareth fought back a smile at the little lad’s protective stance. Sarah lightly squeezed Toby’s shoulder, giving him a reassuring smile as he craned his head to look at her. “It’s okay, Tobes. He’s… He’s a friend.”

Jareth extended his gloved hand to the child and nodded. “Yes, I’m Jareth.”

Toby looked warily at the hand, then shook it firmly. “I’m Tobias James Williams. But friends call me Toby.” Leaning toward Jareth, he grinned, “Only Sarah calls me Tobes… even though I’ve told her a million times not to. That’s a baby nickname.” Toby turned and smirked at Sarah over his shoulder.  “Jareth looks kinda like that guy you used to draw all the time.”

The smile on Sarah’s face faded and she frowned. “What?”

Tilting his head Toby surveyed Jareth more closely. “Yeah, you know. That guy in tights you used to doodle in your school notebooks. The one with the big poofy hair and the _really_ tight pants. You really seemed to like drawing them.”

Jareth’s eyes snapped from the child to Sarah, a smile curling his lips at the faint crimson stain spreading across her cheeks. Clearing her throat, she steered the child back toward the hall leading into the body of the apartment. “Oh _him_. Yes. I suppose he does look a bit like that doodle guy – tho his hair is less ‘80’s glam rock star’ and his pants…” glancing back at Jareth, she pointedly looked at his pants, barely visible beneath the long wool coat. Laughing softly she winked at him. “Well, the pants are still too tight to be decent.”

“So is that him then?”

“Who?” Sarah asked, absently guiding the boy to sit at a dining table, which was already set for three people.

“The guy with the tight pants and fluffy hair. You know, G.K.” Seeing Sarah’s frown, Toby shrugged and flipped the lid of the pizza box open. “I dunno. You always doodled those letters with the pictures. I figured that was his name.”

Sarah’s blush deepened. Coughing slightly, she turned toward the kitchen. “Have a seat, Jareth. I’ll get drinks.”

Jareth smiled to himself, tucking her reaction and blushes away for later examination. Taking off his coat and draping it over the back of one of the chairs, he watched the boy reach into the box and pull out a slice, before stealing bits of sausage from the neighboring slices. Toby dropped the slice on his plate, the boy grinned at Jareth, holding a finger in front of his lips. Unable to help himself, Jareth grinned back and nodded.

“Here, have some,” Toby said, sliding the box toward Jareth. “It’s sausage and mushroom, Sarah’s favorite.”

Reaching into the box, Jareth picked up a slice of his own. “There are three places set for dinner, are you and you sister expecting someone?” he asked, watching Toby carefully fold his slice of pizza in half before taking a bite.

“That’s Sarah’s spot,” the boy said around the pizza in his mouth, while nodding at the seat across from him at the table. “The other spot is VanRijin’s.”

“Speaking of VanRijin, where is he?” Sarah called from the kitchen.

A large grey Siamese cat leapt onto the table next to Jareth’s arm, landing with a loud thud that seemed at odds with his sleek body. Having an affinity for predatory animals like cats, Jareth reached out to pet the animal. “So who is this pretty cat?” he asked, only to jerk his hand back when the cat hissed loudly and swatted at it with bared claws.

Leaning over Jareth’s shoulder, Sarah set a crystal tumbler next to his plate.  The feel of her body pressing lightly to his back, sent his pulse racing. A soft laugh tickled against the flesh of his ear, while her position draped over his shoulder sent delightful vibrations into his back. “ _That_ is VanRijin.”

“Yeah, and you’re in my spot,” grumbled the cat, stepping around the plate to sit right in front of Jareth. The grey cat glared at him with penetrating eyes.

“You can sit in my spot tonight,” Sarah said, scooping up the cat and stroking his head, before depositing him next to the other plate. Plucking another slice of pizza out of the box, she dropped it onto the empty plate and petted the cat’s head once more. “Jareth is a guest. You are family.”

Toby swallowed the bite in his mouth and pouted. “Geeze Jareth, you’re no fun. You didn’t even jump or yell or act surprised when VanRijin spoke.”

Arching an eyebrow, Jareth eyed the cat as it began to delicately nibble the toppings from its slice of pizza, a soft purr echoing from its throat. Jareth picked up his pizza, and folded it in half as Toby had done earlier. “Why should I be surprised that a cat would speak?”

“Most people are,” Toby grumbled, grabbing another slice.

“Well, Jareth isn’t most people,” Sarah said, biting into her own dinner; her words effectively ending the conversation.

For several minutes the four of them ate in silence, with Jareth and VanRijin watching each other with suspicious glares, while Toby gulped and chewed like he hadn’t eaten in a week. Finally, Jareth dropped his crust onto his plate and leaned back in his chair, folding his arms across his chest. “So, should I ask how you came to have a talking cat as a house-pet, Sarah?”

A low growl rumbled in VanRijin’s chest. Despite the fact that he lacked the facial expression of a human, there was no mistaking the fact that the feline was decidedly pissed off by Jareth’s assertion. “Watch it immortal. I’m no one’s house pet.”

Looking sheepish, Sarah offered VanRijin several bits of sausage from her own slice of pizza. “Like most things in my life, it’s complicated.”

“Hurumph. Complicated? You’re not the one doomed to live as a cat for eternity,” grouched VanRijin, before carefully taking the sausage from Sarah’s palm and nuzzling her hand, a warm purr swelling around him.

Sarah sighed and caressed his head. “Yeah. I’m sorry about that.” Looking up at Jareth, she continued petting the cat as he went back to nibbling his slice of pizza. “VanRijin was one of my first clients. He had a premonition that someone was going to curse him by turning him into a wolf. A friend of a friend introduced us, knowing my knack for finding people. And…I found the person trying to curse him – but not until after she’d kidnapped him. I came bursting in to rescue him in the middle of her spell and tried to stop her. That was when I learned that I could do more than just ‘find’ people and things -- I had magic. I was just trying to distract her and threw a lipstick that I had in my pocket at her, but something happened. It turned into a crystal knife and hit her, just before she finished the spell. There was a blinding flash and when I woke up, the witch was nothing more than a blacken smear on the floor and a grey cat was sitting on my chest giving me Hell.”

Jareth’s lips quirked in a smile. “Yes, I can imagine he would be rather upset with you. Curses can only be lifted by the person who set them… usually.” Tilting his head and giving her an owlish look he frowned slightly. “Wait a minute. Curses should lift if the source is dead.”

Nodding, Sarah got up from the table and started collecting empty plates. “Exactly. Apparently Milisandre, the witch, used a type of curse that must be broken by the person who set it – or one of ‘The Three’. And while I can find things and people easily enough, no one knows who ‘The Three’ are. It’s a closely guarded secret.” Sarah deposited the plates in the dishwasher then returned to the dining room, dropping into a chair with a sigh. “So, until I find one of ‘The Three’ it was seemed only fair for me to take care of VanRijin. In fact, he’s been a huge help in taking care of Toby. Speaking of which, it’s time for you to take a quick shower and get ready for bed, Tobes.” Seeing Toby pout as he prepared to argue, Sarah shook her head. “No arguments tonight. Jareth and I need to talk business. So you get a bath, then you can watch TV in your room for an hour.”

Toby grumbled under his breath as he pushed back from the table and started down the hall toward his room.

“I’ll go make sure he doesn’t flood the bathroom again,” VanRijin said, hopping down from the table and trotting up the hall after Toby.

Jareth looked expectantly at Sarah, who sat next to him, running a hand through her hair.  “Do I get to hear the rest of your story now?” he asked.

“Nope. The deal was that you’d pay for the story,” she replied, crossing her arms over her chest and giving him a defiant smirk. “I don’t _owe_ you any explanations. But I’m willing to give it to you in trade for something I need.”

Arching an eyebrow, Jareth fixed her with a calculating stare. “Oh, and just what do you _need?”_

A sly smile tugged at Sarah’s lips, her voice a quiet purr. “I need… _you_.”

  


	3. The Element of Surprise

**Author's Note:** I'm trying to write again, it has been difficult for the reasons I've cited several times (lots of ridiculous working hours, multiple health issues that won't ease off, no time, no mental energy and often, no muse. I'm trying desperately to get the next chapter of 50 Shades of Fey finished, but this will have to do in the meantime.)

As always, please review. They make me smile on the bad days when I barely have the energy to get out of bed.

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**Finder's Keeper**

**Ch. 3**

When Sarah said she needed _him,_ Jareth assumed she had interesting and potentially pleasurable pursuits in mind – he was the Goblin King, Master of the Labyrinth, Lord of Dreams and Dreamers, and Crown Prince of the Under-realm, she wasn't the first woman to proposition him and he was certain that she would not be the last. It was only a millennia of dealing with various court intrigues and Netherworld 'incidents' that allowed his expression to remain neutral. True, his initial reaction was to be surprised rather than being flattered that she could want him in such a way- afterall she had so callously turned him down years before, why would he expect her want him in such a way now. Of course, his offer to the younger Sarah had been merely a last-minute gamble, which regrettably did not pay off.

A slow, sultry smile tugged at the corner of his lips as a number of delightful scenarios ran through Jareth's mind - the vast majority featuring a distinct lack of clothing and an abundance bare flesh.

Sadly, that was not the case.

High Fae were known within the Under-realm for exploiting any loophole in the offers they made to others - so when all was said and done, Jareth really had no one to blame but himself for what happened next. ' _I'm too old to act like an untried youth, his head swayed by the promise of sexual congress,'_ he thought irritably to himself, a blue light emanating from his hands as he forced his attention back to the spell he was weaving over the various wards and protective objects now laid out upon the dining table of Sarah's flat. From his lips flowed a steady stream of enchantments, one after the other. For the past two hours he had been reinforcing the charms and enchanted objects that protected Sarah's home from those that would do her or Toby harm. A faint pulse of magic shivered through the room as the blue glow faded from his hands

"Terrific…that's the charms redone," the brunette chirped, sweeping into the room from the kitchen, a carved crystal high ball glass in her hand. As she moved, the amber liquid in the glass swirled, glowing faintly. "Once you have a drink and replenish a bit, you can get started on the wards sealing the windows and entrances to the apartment."

Dropping into a chair, Jareth's pale eyes narrowed upon her, his lips pursed tightly. When she had said that she needed his hands, he never expected she meant that figuratively. "Gadwin's beard," he muttered. "I'm High Fae and the rule-keeper for the Labyrinth, if _anyone_ should have realized there was a catch to your request, it should have been me. It's my blasted job to _exploit_ loopholes, not be garroted by them!"

"That sounds like a _you_ problem, Jareth ," Sarah laughed, sitting the crystal glass next to his hand. "Honestly, you whine as much as Toby does about doing his homework. If you'd just stop whinging about the _unfairness_ of it all, you'd be done by now." Ignoring the steely glare from the irate Fae, Sarah lightly ran her hand over an etched crystal plaque on the table, the crystal pulsed faintly with the remnants of the blue magic before that too was absorbed. "My wards needed resealing and really, there are few that have more power than you or the High Council – and seeing as how I'm not welcome at the Council after my last… 'interaction' with them, well, you'll have to do."

Jareth wasn't sure which part of her words to remark on first, as curiosity regarding what she could possibly have done to be banned from the Council warred with his pride over the fact that she realized how much power he held. In the end, vanity won out. "I suppose I should be flattered that you acknowledge my level of skill." Elegant fingers curled around the crystal glass and picked it up, the scent of night lyrips and smoked spices drifting up from the swirling liquid told him all he needed to know. "Should I ask why you have Elven mana flower elixir in your possession? Especially since it is forbidden for anyone to sell or trade it outside of the Elven kingdom?"

Her emerald eyes twinkled slyly as she sipped the dark amber liquid in her own glass. "Let's just say that I did a little 'favor' for their Princess Aisling awhile back and the 'Crown' was incredibly grateful for my help. Short of making me an Elven noble, this was the best gift the King felt he could offer me. And given the power of the liquid and the sorts of 'dealings' I have, I would have been insane to refuse it."

Sipping the glowing liquid, Jareth couldn't help the low, rumbling purr that vibrated deep in his chest. Instantly he could feel the elixir binding to his magic and strengthening it, before pooling deep within him. "Indeed. Nothing heals magical fatigue or illness quite like it." Arching an eyebrow at her, he tilted his head owlishly. "I've heard that this liquid can even bring mortally wounded immortals back from the brink of passing the veil. I would love to hear just what 'little' favor you could possibly have done that would elicit such a gift – wars have been initiated over requests for this recipe or bottles of it that were turned down by the Elven Crown."

Sarah merely smiled and shook her head. "Sorry Goblin King. In the Above we have non-disclosure agreements. In the Under-realm, there are blood oaths." Pushing up her sleeve, she turned her wrist over, revealing a faint tree shaped scar. "If you want to know what I did, you'll have to take it up with King Cyraxes. My lips are sealed."

Thoughtfully sipping his drink, Jareth sighed deeply, relishing the feeling of warmth spreading through him. "This is not a full measure of the elixir," he mused, noting Sarah's smirk.

"There was no need to give you a full measure. You haven't expended _that_ much energy, Goblin King." The woman draped in the nearby dining chair, laughed lightly, the sound ringing softly off the walls and polished marble floor. "If you had expended enough energy to warrant a full measure of the elixir, I'd likely be dead. So for that, I should thank you, I suppose…but I won't. I'd rather not have you in my debt, that never seems to end well for humans."

The Goblin King eyed her pensively. "Yet, you have Underground beings in your debt regularly, it would seem."

Shrugging Sarah sipped her own drink before answering. "In the beginning, yes. I made that mistake. I learned that payment was a necessary part of the negotiation after nearly ending up in King Orengase's seraglio on a 'permanent' basis."

Jareth felt his chest tighten at the thought of Sarah trapped in King Orengase's harem until the end of her life; since there were only two ways out of a harem once chained – marriage or death, and Orengase would never marry a female from his harem off. Ignoring the bitter feel of anger that welled up inside him, he winked at her. "I'm sure you would have looked simply lovely in the silks and chains of a harem girl."

Seeing the twinkle in Jareth's darkening eyes, Sarah laughed at his teasing. "I'm sure I would have, but you see, slave silks are just not my thing. Besides, have you _seen_ his seraglio? It's beyond ugly."

"Actually I have seen it…"

"Why am I not surprised," Sarah chuckled, picking up a simple necklace from the table in front of her and fastening it around her neck.

"And you are quite right. Whomever he had decorate the harem quarters should have been executed for crimes against good taste."

Nodding, Sarah tipped her glass up and downed the last bit of her drink, then started to gather up the enchanted items scattered across the table. "Yup. The only taste the designer had was in his mouth. So obviously, I couldn't stay there. I'd die of hemorrhaging eyes from the color scheme within a week."

The levity Jareth felt at their teasing faded at her words. ' _Or by being torn apart by the military,'_ he thought angrily to himself, knowing full well that King Oreganse had a habit of punishing his harem by sending them to the military quarters as the unit whore – none ever returned from that treatment, with most dying within days from being brutalized. Shaking his head, he finished his drink and set the glass down. "I suspect you are not yet through with me, Precious. What is next?"

"Come on, the last bit is upgrading the wards over the windows in my bedroom and Toby's."

Seeing the sultry smirk shimmering in Jareth's eyes, Sarah laughed and shook her head. "Don't get any ideas, Goblin King. You are only getting an invitation into my room to reseal the wards – _nothing else_."

Jareth waved his hand dismissively at her, shrugging. "I said nothing of the sort. It was _you_ that suggested it. Lead the way." Grinning, Sarah brushed past him and led him down a short hall, then opened a door at the end, reaching around the entry to turn on the light inside. Peering into her room, Jareth found himself surprised once again. Gone was the canopy bed and frills of her youthful bedroom, replaced with sleek clean lines and dark colors. Heavy navy curtains covered the windows, while a large sleigh bed of mahogany wood held pride of place against the long wall. A matching mahogany dresser and vanity completed the furniture of the room. The only hint of her past life was a crystal music box sitting on the vanity, the dark-haired girl inside wearing a replica of the dress Sarah wore in her enchanted dream. Picking up the music box, he turned the key two turns, smiling at the melody that slowly began to play. "I'm surprised you kept anything that would remind you of your trial in my Labyrinth, much less something that would remind you of such an 'unfair' event."

Deftly, Sarah plucked the music box from his hands, caressing the glass gently, before sitting it back in its place. "I…I…well…I was upset at the time, but… after awhile I finally understood the lessons of the Labyrinth." Still caressing the music box, she looked up, offering him a quiet smile. "This was the only thing I took with me when I left home. I wanted the reminder, so I wouldn't forget just how lucky I am."

A strange feeling wrapped around his spine as he looked at her. In all his years as the Goblin King and Ruler of the Labyrinth, he had never known a runner to understand that the trial was a lesson. Seeing the wistful look on her face as she caressed the music box, Jareth moved toward the window, pushing the curtains aside. He tapped his chin thoughtfully as he examined the glyphs carved above and below the window. "I can't upgrade the glyphs and wards without the knife that was used to etch them," he said, pulling the sleek glove from his hand and running a finger over the fine carving over the top of the window. "Hmm… I think a…."

"…..crystal athame would be best," Sarah cut in, laughing as she pulled the nightstand drawer open. "I'm not some silly school girl anymore, Jareth. I know more about magic and your world than you seem to realize." Turning she held a carved wooden box out to him.

Taking the box, Jareth set it on the table under the window. The top and sides of the box were covered in neatly carved figures, entwined with Nordic runes. Running his finger over an owl motif made of twisting tree fronds, he looked up at her. "Nordic runes. Celtic occham symbols and even Seelie luresha glyphs? Paranoia isn't becoming in a lady, Sarah."

"First off, I'm no lady. I'm just trying to stay alive. And secondly, it isn't being paranoid if they really _are_ out to get you." Laughing she flipped the lid of the box open, revealing a deep red velvet lining, with more glyphs and runes stitched across the fabric in sparkling gold and silver threads. Nestled in a perfectly sized groove was a shimmering crystal blade, the like of which Jareth had only seen once in his life. Looking from the blade to the girl leaning against the wall smiling at him, he felt a spark of magic ripple through him, longing to lash out at her.

"Where. Did. You. Get. This?" he hissed, his tone icy as he advanced toward her, the crystalline anthame in his bare hand, a faint blue glow easing over the surface of the wickedly sharp blade.

"What?" she asked, frowning as she backed away from the agitated Fae. "That was a gift from someone I did some work for. She even told me how to use it to protect myself and Toby."

Hearing that, Jareth stopped, his eyes drawn to the blade in his hand. "That sounds like something she'd do," he mused as the blade glowed brighter in his grasp. He hadn't held such a blade in over a century, but to see the way it responded to his own power told him what he needed to know. "So my grandmother gifted you this blade?"

It was Sarah's turn to be put firmly on the back foot, judging by the wide green eyes that stared at him.

"Your…. _grand_ mother? But…she was so young?!"

Jareth shrugged, holding the crystal blade up to the light and smiling at the way the blue shimmer seemed to wink from within the fine shards that made up the interior of the crystal. "She's immortal, Sarah. We choose what age to appear to mortals and even amongst other non-mortals, we can choose to appear to remain preternaturally youthful." Tilting his head, he regarded the young woman watching him warily from the foot of the bed, his pale eyes visibly darkening. "Should I ask what task you completed for her that would warrant her gifting you something so rare and powerful? I'm related to her by blood and I've only seen one of her crystal blades twice in my lifetime."

Sarah's eyes glinted mischievously as she shook her head. "Sorry. That is confidential, although it is directly related to why the Grand Council has placed a century ban on me showing my face at a Council function."

"Ahh… got on my Father's bad side did you?"

"Nope. In fact, I can't say I've ever met your father… Hell. I didn't even realize you were the Crown Prince for the Nether. Or that the Isolde-Arinara was your grandmother." Frowning, Sarah looked at Jareth, confused by the low, purring chuckle rumbling from Jareth's chest as he continued to examine the crystal athame. The intricate carvings along the blade flickered deep purple at his touch, almost as if the magic of the blade was responding to his own magic. "Why the laugh?"

"Well, I haven't heard my grandmother's favourite pseudonym in many years. She used to use that name when she would glamour us and take me into the Crystal City Markets without our guards. It was always an adventure going out with her, even though it drove my parents mad with worry when they discovered she was doing that."

Grinning now, Sarah sat on the foot of the bed, flipping her hair over her shoulder as she watched him. "Sounds like an interesting tale. Shall we negotiate a story for a story?"

Jareth turned the blade in his hand, focusing his magic so that it flared purple once more, then gave her a dark grin. "I think that could be arranged," he purred, before pricking the tip of his finger with the blade. A brilliant flash of blue filled the room, as the blade's glow intensified at the feel of blood from the line of power in the Netherworld. "First things first."

_**~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~** _

An hour later, Jareth stepped back from the window and sighed, the hand holding the crystal blade dropping wearily to his side. He was no novice at setting protective wards – wards of protection were one of the first spells taught to young Fae as soon as they had learned to walk and talk. With the amount of power at his command through his own heritage and his link to the Labyrinth itself, on his own, he could set a ward strong enough to protect the whole of the DarqueMyst. Feeling the weariness of one who has expended the majority of their magical reserve, Jareth marveled at himself. ' _Had she been any other human, I would not have put so much force behind the wards. What's so special about her?'_ he mused to himself, already knowing the answer. She was the Champion of the Labyrinth. She was Sarah Williams. The girl who won.

That fact alone was enough for him to instinctively seek to protect her with his magic and very life if required. Still marveling over the force of this desire, Jareth noted a faint shift in the room, as the air seemed to chill. Slowly exhaling, he half expected to see his breath hanging frozen fin the air. With a frown he glanced around the room, his eyes narrowing, as his predatory gaze came forward upon instinct. Something was wrong. He could feel it. Without thinking his grip on the blade shifted and his stance dropped, knees bending slightly. Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw the faintest wisp of movement, a low growl rumbling in his chest as the wisps swirled to mass behind Sarah, a dark form taking shape behind her.

"Sarah...look out!"

Glancing up from the book in her hands, Sarah felt as if time had slowed to a crawl. Jareth's mouth seemed to freeze momentarily in a surprised 'O' before twisting into a terrifying scowl. From that point, several things happened at once. Jareth's form shimmered and seemed to grow transparent, as his casual Above-styled clothing faded from view, replaced by the dark, imposing Goblin armor that she remembered vividly from her first encounter with him. In his hand, the crystaline blade now flickered an obsidian so dark it was if if he was holding the very essence of midnight within it's deadly sharpness. In his other hand appeared crystal that pulsed with a deep red glow, the very power of which seemed to ripple in the area around him. If it weren't for her confusion at his sudden transformation she would have been torn between sheer lust at the display of power and complete terror at the menace that poured from him.

Before Sarah could react to Jareth's warning, a slender hand materialized around her throat, attached to a thin, unnaturally pale man. A feral growl echoed around the room, as the man's hand tightened, the viciously sharp claws of his hand just starting to prick the tender flesh of her neck. Tilting his head, the being's long ebony hair fell aside, revealing baleful red eyes that narrowed upon Jareth, as his lips twisting into an evil smirk. "Did you really think the Goblin Spawn's magic would keep me out, silly girl? Once invited...always invited."

Fingers tightening around the crystal, Jareth returned the snarl with one of his own, while cursing his inability to act. With the man so close to Sarah, any magic that would hurt the vampyre now holding Sarah, would destroy her as well. "You have no business here bloodsucker. Leave now and I'll let you keep your unlife, stay and you won't even be ash when I'm through!"

Seeing the vampyre dip his head toward Sarah's neck, Jareth felt his body scream as the muscles tensed demanding that he react. The red eyes narrowed further, glittering wickedly at him, his pale lips curling upward, revealing a jagged, razor-sharp smile.

"Ahh...but I do have business here, Goblin Brat..." the vampyre purred, his smirk widening when the woman in his grasp shivered involuntarily from the supernatural register of his voice. With his eyes locked on Jareth's, the vampyre leaned in further, his fangs glistening in the light for the briefest moment before he nicked the side of Sarah's neck.

A pinpoint of ruby blood welled through the nick, glistening against the pale skin. Jareth could smell the iron-salts in the droplet, his own blood churning in response, both with a desire to destroy the vampyre that dared sully his champion, and with a desire to taste of her himself. Growling inwardly, he cursed his lineage. ' _She is not my mate, yet I respond to her blood in the same way I would my mate - a desire to rip apart anyone who causes it to flow...while wanting to drive into her and claim her.'_ A roar of outrage caught behind his clenched teeth, at the sight of the vampyre's tongue flicking out to taste the crimson pearl upon her skin. The sound of a low moan from Sarah broke the silence and freed the angry roar from Jareth's lips, causing the very walls of the apartment to tremble.

"RELEASE HER!"

"Make me. Oh… that's right fairy-boy… you can't. I've got a prior claim that trumps your status... _your Highness,_ " replied the vampyre with a smirk. Lapping the final smear of blood from Sarah's neck, the vampyre purred, licking his lips with relish. "I'm here to collect the rent."

"Really...I…" Sarah began, only to freeze at the withering look from Jareth. His eyes narrowed upon her, flickering black, as the cape of his armor licked around his ankles.

"Rent? So _that's_ how you afford a place like this. You're a bloodsuckers… human _pet..._ " Jareth hissed, his words dripping with distain, only to be met with an astonished laugh from the vampyre.

"Pet? Hardly. Sarah is so much more than a mere pet."

"Lovers then? You could do so much better than a mere bloodsucker, Sarah. You're the Labyrinth Champion."

The vampyre snorted, his hand sliding down Sarah's throat, then descended slowly over her chest to grip her hip, the movement causing a flare of heat within Jareth, his fingers itching to release the crytal and immolate the infuriating bloodsucker. Smirking, the vampyre flicked his tongue along the shell of Sarah's ear, making the girl tremble in his arms and give another throaty moan. "What? You mean like you, Goblin Spawn? Hah!"

"I'm far better equipped to pleasure her than some nightstalker with blood breath!" Jareth snapped, his own eyes flickering red.

"I'll show you mine if you show me yours. Oh that's right, we've already played that game, haven't we…. _Jareth_ ," the vampyre purred, blowing Jareth a kiss before chuckling in Sarah's ear, "Really darling, if you wanted an immortal threesome, you could do so much better than Glitter-pants. You should've told me, I've got many more… talented… friends who would be more than happy to oblige…."

Oblivious to the angry flash of Sarah's eyes, the two immortals both opened their mouths to issue the next volley of angry retorts, only to be silenced by a sudden blue flash that surrounded Sarah, shaking the walls and knocking the vampyre and immortal against opposite walls of the rooms. "ENOUGH! Look...can you two stop with the immortal pissing match, already?!"

Shaking his head as he tried to blink away the blinding blue aura now etched upon his sensitive retinas, Jareth sat up against the wall. When his vision adjusted, he noticed a tousled blonde head peeking around the doorway, brown eyes blinking sleepily.

With a yawn, Toby scrubbed his fist against his eyes once more, then frowned as he looked into his sister's room, seeing Jareth picking himself up from the floor. In between blinks, Jareth's body seemed to flicker, then become see-through before the armor disappeared and he appeared in simple leggings and a flowing white shirt. Blinking again, Toby noticed the vampyre sprawled on Sarah's bed, "Um...hi Vanya."

Vanya chuckled, flipping his hair back from his face and giving the boy a friendly grin, his eyes shifting to pale violet. "Evening Toby. Shouldn't you be asleep by now?"

Yawning once more, Toby looked from Vanya to Jareth, then to his sister who was still growling at the two immortals. "Hey Sarah? You okay? The walls shook and well… that usually means..."

"Now look what you two have done," Sarah growled at Jareth and Vanya. Dropping the book into her nightstand and slamming the drawer shut, she smiled at the blonde boy in the doorway. "Yeah, I'm fine Tobes. Nothing bad is happening. You're safe, so just go on back to bed and I'll come tuck you back in." Watching as the young boy nodded then disappeared, Sarah turned her attention to the two immortals, her eyes flashing with enough anger that Vanya's smile disappeared momentarily and Jareth made no move away from the wall. "Can I trust you two alone in my bedroom for five minutes?"

"Of course darling. It won't be the first time you've left me in your bed," purred Vanya, fluffing up the pillows stacked against the headboard of the bed and making himself more comfortable.. "But I can't speak for the glitter-poofy fairy-boy."

Frowning, Jareth turned his attention to Sarah, his blue eyes steely and cold. "Why is he here? Or more precisely, why aren't you concerned about it?"

"I could ask the same about you, glitter-pants!" snapped Vanya.

"Be. Good!" ordered the irritated brunette, glaring at Vanya, then at Jareth. "Behave yourselves. No spells. No blood shed. No. Violence. Understand?"

"Sarah…." Jareth grumbled, rising to his feet. "I need an answer or I will be forced to recall the magic spent upon your wards. I don't protect blood suckers."

Vanya's red eyes darkened to black, as he hissed, "No...you made that abundantly clear during the Warunschrpunga."

Seeing Jareth start for the bed, his hands curled around glittering red crystals, Sarah stepped forward, her hand resting in the middle of his chest, careful to avoid touching his pendant. "Enough you two! Jareth, Vanya is…. well...it's complicated. But I don't want you hurting him. Understand?" At the icy glare from Jareth her eyes narrowed. "Give me your oath, Goblin King! You will _not_ spill blood in anger under my roof."

At her demand for an oath, Jareth blinked, the crystals dissolving from his hands without thought. To turn down the request of an oath by one of his court would be difficult, but to turn down such a request from his own Labyrinth Champion was… regretably in this instance….impossible. Placing his hand over his pendant, Jareth gave a formal, yet shallow nod, his blue eyes fixing sternly upon her face. "As my Labyrinth's Champion, I will honor your request with my oath - but I expect you to require the same from him."

Sarah rolled her eyes, an exasperated sigh hissing past her lips as Vanya did little to help the situation, his laughter ringing around the room.

"No fear of that. Fae blood is too sickly sweet for my tastes, or have you forgotten that too, Jareth?" he added with a sultry purr.

Seeing the blackness flicker in Jareth's eyes, Sarah was suddenly glad she had secured his oath before Vanya had needled the angry Fae further. With a broad grin, Vanya brushed imaginary fluff from his shirt, only to blink sheepishly when Sarah pinned him with a steely look. "And as for you, you leave Jareth alone too. Stop baiting him."

"Why should I? He threatened me and for that matter he just threatened your safety by deactivating the wards! When are you going to explain just _how_ and _why_ the Goblin King and Crown Prince of Ponciness is in your bedroom?"

Shrugging, Sarah waved away his words. "He's...he's… " Sarah glanced from Vanya, to Jareth, catching his dark blue eyes with her own. "He's...a friend," she said, then glared at Vanya in time to miss the look of utter surprise upon Jareth's face. Swallowing heavily, he schooled his expression once more, as she waggled a finger at Vanya. "Not that it is any of your business _who_ I allow into my bedroom...or _why_." Stepping away from Jareth, Sarah pointed at the two of them. "Now… be good… no violence. Nothing! I mean it you two or I'll make sure you both regret it."

Vanya gave her a formal bow, "As your friend, the Fae ponce is untouchable by me and my kin, Sarinka."

Ignoring each other, the two immortals watched as the brunette followed her brother from the room. The moment she was gone, Jareth dropped into the leather chair tucked next to the small bookcase, still trying to reconcile the fact that she had claimed him as 'friend' in front of another immortal.

"Surprised you, didn't she, Jareth?" Vanya asked, lounging back on the pillows of Sarah's bed once more, and looking for all the world as if it was his place by right.

Jareth shrugged, tugging lightly at the lace of his cuffs. "She's a mortal, she doesn't know what that means in our world, Vanya. I don't read anything into it, and neither should you."

Laughing, Vanya picked up a small throw pillow and pelted it at Jareth's head, grinning as it sailed harmlessly into a stack upon a bench, guided by the smooth twist of Jareth's hand. "You're still an idiot when it comes to women you have feelings for Jareth. Clearly some things...and some immortals, never change."

"I don't have feelings for her. She's the Champion, That is all."

"Then why were you surprised by her claiming you as a 'friend'?"

Jareth pursed his lips, studying his leather clad fingers before looking at the vampyre. "To claim me as a friend would imply that there is a mutual bond and Sarah would never willingly give me any such power over her."

"Hah... she knows more about our world than you give her credit for. Her claiming you as a friend was a calculated move to get me to behave and to bind you further to honor your oath. Hells' bells, I can't believe you let her have that power over you willingly enough when you offered up your oath without so much as a snarky comment," chuckled Vanya, fluffing up a pillow behind his back.

Ignoring Vanya's insinuation, Jareth tugged on the leather gloves covering his hands. "So why are you here really, Vanya?" he asked, his tone still icy, as he glared at the laughing vampyre. "If Sarah isn't your pet, what is she that you would demand a blood debt from her? Your lover?"

"You really haven't figured it out yet, have you? You were always so clueless at school, Jareth. After all these years, have you forgotten that my tastes run toward the… male of the species? Don't tell me you've forgotten all that we…."

"The past is the past, Vanya. People change - even blood sucking fiends," grumbled Jareth, cutting him off.

Lost in their discussion, neither immortal noticed Sarah lurking in the darkened doorway of her bedroom, the shadows seeming to lengthen and wrap around her, to further conceal her. She watched, silently drinking in each word and wondering at the fact that Vanya and Jareth clearly had known each other before Vanya appeared in her bedroom. Her eyes followed Vanya's hand upward, watching his slender fingers running lightly over a faint scar on the side of his neck. Frowning in confusion, she watched him smirk, while Jareth's eyes followed the movement, his own gloved fingertips mimicking the action over a similar scar on his own throat.

"No Jareth. Some of us don't change so much, because we have always known who we are and what we wanted. Others… well...others need more time to discover their true selves. No shame in that," Vanya replied, his words now quiet as all hint of jest fell from his voice.

Catching himself caressing the faint bite mark upon his throat, Jareth shook his head sharply, his hand dropping into his lap as a fist. "I always hated it when you attempted to beguile me in that way, Van."

"Can you blame me for enjoying the fact that I am one person in all the worlds who can beguile the mighty Goblin King with just a few words - even if only for a the briefest heartbeat?"

Sighing, Jareth looked at the vampyre, his fist relaxing once more upon the leather covered thigh. "Just tell me the truth. Are you lovers..."

"Like we were?"

Pale eyes flickered darkly as Jareth growled, "Damn it all, Van..."

Holding up his hand, Vanya laughed, shaking his head. "Pax, Jaren...I'll stop. The answer is no. Sarinka is neither my pet, nor my lover. Not that she isn't beautiful. Any being in the seven realms would be lucky to have her in their bed, but I have two key reasons for not attempting to beguile her into mine. First, I still prefer males...slender, yet muscular… powerful… and _blonde_." From her vantage point in the shadows, Sarah marveled at the way Jareth's demeanor seemed to thaw a bit at Vanya's words, a faint smile playing at the corner of his mouth. "And secondly, I don't have a final death wish. I'm not about to take a paramour from Zora."

At the sound of a sharp breath from the doorway, both immortals looked up, to see a blushing Sarah slipping from the shadows.

"Shame on you, eavesdropping, Sarinka," teased Vanya, then patted the bed next to him. "Come, I was just going to tell the Fairy all about your exploits with Zora."

"My 'exploits' as you put them, are neither of your business," Sarah said, flopping on the foot of her bed and glaring at Vanya.

Nodding briefly, Jareth murmured, "I am sorry, Sarah. You are quite right. I apologize for pressing the issue. I only wished to ensure you were not being kept a pet. As the Labyrinth Champion, I would be honour bound to seek your freedom from such an arrangement, as the Labyrinth herself has prior claim upon you - a claim that in the Nether would supercede _any_ arrangement with another being."

Sarah sighed, thumping her head against the heavy wood of the bed, before pinning Jareth in place with a stern stare. "Let's get a few things straight right now, Goblin King. I don't belong to Vanya. I don't belong to you. And I sure as Hell don't belong to your damn sentient maze!" Seeing his surprise, she gave a short, irritated huff, "Of course I know it is sentient. The blasted thing changed anytime it wanted while I was going through it. I was pretty sure you had better things to do than change individual walls just to fuck with my head." Pointing a finger, she jabbed it into Vanya's chest. "And as for you...stop baiting Jareth. That's an order."

"I wasn't baiting him. I was just telling him what he wanted to know," insisted Vanya, rubbing the spot she had poked with her fingernail, before returning his attention to Jareth. "The fact is, she is not my lover and while she is… at times, 'associated' with my sister, the reason I am here and collect a blood payment is because Sarinka is... _inrudire_...she is kindred."

"Kindred?" Jareth murmured, trying to squelch his surprise. "But...there has been no human claimed as kindred for…."

"For a thousand years. My great-great-grandmother. Yes. Sarinka is only the second human to ever be declared kindred of the Volyenko Clan. And much as my great-great-grandmother Zofia, Sarinka earned that claim of kindred, through her action in protecting one of our line." Seeing the curiosity etched on Jareth's face, Vanya continued. "Zora was not yet Matriarch, and for Sarinka's service to the Clan, father offered to adopt her into the matriarchal line, but she refused."

Feeling the heat rising to her cheeks at the way Jareth looked at her, Sarah shrugged. "I've had more than one King offer to make me a noble or arrange a royal marriage for me as repayment, above and beyond what was negotiated for my services. What can I say, I aim to please my clients and apparently I do a good job."

"Yes...you definitely did a good job for us. Father even offered her the seat of Queen…"

"Wait, I thought you still prefer males?"

"I do...and our kingdom is still matriarchal. That hasn't changed, Jareth.," Vanya replied, laughing at the sudden realization that dawned in Jareth's eyes. "Father was willing to see Zora wed to a female, in repayment for Sarinka's service - a break in tradition that goes back as long as our people have been. When Sarinka turned it down, Zora offered to make her consort, but that too was refused."

Groaning, Sarah ran a hand through her hair, unable to meet Jareth's eyes. "Vanya, you make me sound like I was trying to claim a throne by sleeping with the matriarch. That wasn't what...isn't… arrrgh…. that's not what I wanted. It just...happened. Dangerous situations...well they can lead to... oh fuck. Why am I even trying to explain it to you?!"

"Relax, Sarinka. You should know by now that same sex relationships are not frowned upon in the Nether, although many realms have rules about whether such relationships can be 'officially' recognized - royal lines must be clear you know." Glancing fondly at Sarah, Vanya smiled. "So, when Sarinka turned down the chance to become part of the first ruling matriarchal pairing for our realm, Zora took the decision from Father's hand. As her first act as Matriarch, she claimed Sarinka as kindred - a status that is higher than consort, and allows more freedom."

The thought that Sarah was committed to another sent a wave of ice rushing through Jareth's veins. Forcing a smile, he nodded, "I am pleased that you have made such a good match, Sarah and see that you are being well looked after by the Volyenko Clan and their people."

Biting her lip, Sarah shook her head, "No...Jareth...it's not what you think it…"

Vanya smiled inwardly seeing the faint hint of resignation, tinged with possessiveness in Jareth's eyes, before he masked it. "No, Jareth. It isn't what you think at all. Father and Zora were acting to protect Sarinka. Her service to our Clan was so great, that we owe her a blood debt, but in completing her service to us, Sarinka essentially put a bounty on herself and her brother. The only way to keep them safe from those within the vampyre lines that would seek to harm them, was to incorporate them into the royal line by right of blood…"

"And I couldn't let them turn me," Sarah interjected, hating the faintly pleading sound in her voice, as she wondered why it mattered so much to her that Jareth believe that she wasn't sleeping her way into the royal family.

"She is indeed protected by our blood, but not enough to relieve her of her mortality," Vanya added. "Just enough to lay our claim to her as kindred, so that should anyone related to any of the vampyre lines harm Sarinka or Tobias, their unlife would be forfeit. Their entire line will be destroyed, the ashes sown with lime and buried in salt pits for eternity."

Jareth had seen battles that left rivers of blood flowing over the land, and even participated in fiercely violent skirmishes, but to hear just how far the Volyenko Clan was willing to go to retaliate against anyone who harmed Sarah and Toby, made his insides shiver, while his mind screamed to join in the carnage against any who would harm his Champion and her brother. "Obviously, your service to the Clan was great."

Shrugging, Sarah smiled at Vanya. "I owed them. If it weren't for Vanya and Zora, I wouldn't be here today." Unable to fight back a yawn, Sarah sighed. "But that is a story that will have to wait until later. I've been up since 3 on a case, and really need sleep. Vanya...you need to go. You've 'paid the rent' now go on home."

With a grin, Vanya hopped up from the bed, then leaned over and kissed Sarah's cheek. "Actually, I'm heading upstairs. Raylen is back from Caringel so I plan to spend the rest of the weekend…."

Clapping her hands over her ears, Sarah laughed, "La-la-la...I'm not listening and I don't want to know what you two get up to. Just make sure the sound-proofing is up to scratch. Last time Toby heard some things he really shouldn't have."

Still grinning, Vanya winked at Jareth. "Do be a darling and soundproof the dear boy's room, will you Glitter-Bum? He's still a bit young to be wondering such things." Before Jareth could answer, Vanya's form seemed to melt into wisps of black smoke which drifted toward the vents in the ceiling, then disappeared.

Jareth felt his head start to throb as he watched Vanya vanish and heard Sarah start to laugh. "He always knows how to make an entrance, and an exit," she giggled, then started toward the doorway. "Come on, Goblin King."

"Oh...right...yes...I should probably go," he said, following her through the door, only to frown in confusion when she stopped at the door next to her own bedroom.

"Don't be silly. It's too late for the Crown Prince to be wandering through Manhattan and it's probably a bad idea for you to try to make your way through DarqueMyst back to the Nether. You'll be safer here and we can work on your situation in the morning." Opening the door, Sarah turned on the lights, revealing a large guest bedroom decorated in sedate shades of gold and forest green, a painted fairy bower creeping up the walls to cover the ceiling. "There is a private bathroom through there," she said, pointing toward another door. "Make yourself at home and we'll talk in the morning."

Turning toward the doorway, she paused and smiled at him, her green eyes shimmering quietly. "I know it's been a strange evening for you Jareth, and stressful with your sister missing - we'll work on that. I promise. But… well… as odd as this may sound to you, it's...it's actually nice to see you again. Sleep well," she murmured, before shutting the door.

Stunned, Jareth found himself standing in the middle of the guest room staring after her, unable to keep the surprise from his expression at last. So lost in his own confusion and surprise was he, that he actually jumped when the door was opened suddenly a moment later, and the brunette head poked itself through the gap, giving him a warm smile. "Oh, and please do sound-proof the whole flat if you would? Vanya and Raylyn tend to be...well… noisy when they are enjoying themselves. Although, I'm guessing you have a pretty good idea how loud Vanya can be," she added, her eyes glittering cheekily at him. "I think it must run in the family. Zora is a screamer too."

With those parting words ringing in his ears, Sarah shut the door, her laughter following her back to her room.

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 **AUTHORS NOTE:** As always, please review. I do love to read them.


	4. Goblin Fruit

**Warning:**  This chapter includes non-explicit references to intimate acts, including m/m and f/f, as well as the usual Sarah/Jareth sexual tension. As always, please review. :)

 **Credit:**  "The Goblin Market" for some stanzas.

* * *

 

The blue-grey light of the waning moon illuminated the quiet clearing with desolate shadows, that shifted restlessly through the long night hours. All around her, Sarah smelled the rich, heady scent of the ripe fruit, piled in the handcarts that ringed the clearing. She could almost taste the sweet juices, their scent hanging thick in the air, like a flavoured fog. Her mouth watered, every tastebud screaming to bite into the luscious fruit, tearing into the succulent flesh to sup upon the sticky juices within.

Shifting silently, she rose, her hand reaching for the apple on top of the cart nearest her, the silvery-grey moonlight giving the fruit an ethereal glow - a glow which should have warned her away from such tempting fruit, but only made her want it more. The sound of footsteps in the trees outside the clearing, made her pause, as deep voices murmured, growing closer with each passing second. Before she could make a move to escape, the voices grew louder, punctuated by a dark growling laugh that sent a shiver up her spine, her body torn between abject terror and lust. Dropping low behind the cart, she held her breath and peered between the small gap between laden fruit carts.

For a brief moment the clearing was thrust into darkness, while dark clouds caressed the moon, before drifting away once more, letting the shimmering orb cast its silvery-grey light once more into the clearing. Sarah's eyes were drawn to the dancing shadows upon the bare earth at the center of the glen, only to widen when the solitary figure of the Goblin King stepped from the silken shadows. The air in the clearing seemed to become heavy with his presence, weighing upon Sarah's lungs until she felt they would burst from the sheer weight his very being had in this place. Gripping the wheel of the cart to ground herself, Sarah felt her heart beat furiously within the cage of her chest, as if desperate to escape the bony confines that held it captive.

At first glance, he seemed almost angelic, his white-blond hair standing wild about his head artful disarray. A dark shirt clung to his arms, the front open and falling wide to reveal the pale expanse of his chest, shimmering with a faint sheen of sweat that gave him an air of supernatural beauty, as the moonlight caressed the smooth flesh and glittered off the embossed sigil that hung always in the center of his chest. Her fingers itched against the wood of the cart wheel, longing to stroke the bare swatch of chest revealed to her hungry eyes. He strode across the glen, each movement fraught with leonine grace, his bare feet making no sound upon the worn earth beneath them. Pausing in the center of the clearing, he slowly turned. For an instant she half expected to see feathered wings of his angelic nature to sprout from the angular lines of his shoulder blades.

Then she saw his eyes.

Glittering flashes of midnight blue that glowed briefly in the moonlight, that stole away her breath - and in that instant might have stolen her soul as well.

Within her a war raged between her desire to rise and go to him, and the need to flee the feral countenance before her that was both angel and demon - temptation made flesh in ways she never dreamed possible. Fighting to breathe, she nearly gasped aloud when he turned toward the edge of the clearing, his dark eyes falling upon Vanya.

Like night follows day, Vanya entered the clearing, barefoot like Jareth, and shirtless. As he crossed the clearing, Vanya reached out and plucked a dark red fruit from a cart. Goosebumps raced across Sarah's body at the sight of Vanya stopping near Jareth, his dark hair pulling loose from the usual sleek ponytail he wore. His bare chest was adorned with sweat, which glistened in the dim moonlight, illuminating the fine scarlet lines that marred his skin. Without a word, Vanya raised the fruit toward Jareth, his eyes dilated so far that seeing them was like looking into an eclipse, the intensity of which burned through Sarah's veins, to pool with liquid heat between her thighs.

Like a viper attacking it's prey, Jareth's hand shot out, twisting viciously into the back of Vanya's hair. Jareth jerked Vanya forward, until his lips were a mere breath from the vampire's. A low growl echoed around the clearing, met by a whimpered moan from Vanya, his eyes falling shut. Silently Jareth seemed to breathe deeply, testing Vanya's scent. Tilting his head, he flicked his tongue along the seam of Vanya's lips, a wicked sneer curling the corner of his mouth when Vanya's lips parted in response.

"You remember my rules…  _boy_?" Jareth hissed, his own eyes nearly black as he gazed upon Vanya's upturned face.

"To...to the victor go the spoils," Vanya murmured, then groaned as Jareth tightened his hand further in the ebony tresses.

Sarah swallowed hard, her mouth suddenly like dush. During the sparring she had witnessed between the Goblin King and the vampire, she assumed Vanya was the dominant force. A wave of cognitive dissonance washed over her at the realization that Jareth held the power - a power that Vanya willingly yielded to him.

"Never. Forget," Jareth snarled. "I  _always_  win."

In the next instant he dragged Vanya closer and devoured his mouth, his tongue plundering the heated depths, even as his teeth nipped the silken lips, heedless of the razor sharp fangs that lie within. A needy whine rippled into the air, as Vanya's empty hand clutched at Jareth's bicep, the thin black material ripping under the vampires piercing claws. Lost to the demanding kiss, Vanya's other hand clenched around the fruit, the wickedly sharp claws piercing the firm flesh with a wet, tearing sound, red juices trickled along his fingers, to drip onto the ground.

Sarah fought down a whimper of her own at the sight, the pulsing between her thighs growing stronger, until she was sure it would be audible to the keen senses of the Fae and vampire. Surprisingly, they were so caught up in each other, that neither of them seemed to notice the voyeur hiding behind the fruit carts.

Abruptly releasing the vampire, Jareth chuckled darkly at the lust-glazed look in Vanya's eyes. Vanya's knees wobbled forcing him back a step, as he gazed at Jareth and offered him the dripping fruit without a word.

"A pomegranate," Jareth purred, taking the dripping fruit from Vanya's trembling hand. "Appropriate, my  _pet_...don't you think?" Not waiting for an answer, Jareth turned his other hand over. "My blade, boy...the one you keep for your  _Master_."

Biting her lip, Sarah swallowed a moan at the taste of iron that filled her senses, as she watched Vanya. His eyes never left Jareth's, even as he reached around to the small of his back and withdrew a silver dagger, the blade glinting coldly in the moonlight. With the blade laying open across his palm, Vanya offered it to the Goblin King. Jareth picked up the blade, examining it intently, his dark eyes seeking out any hint that his possession had been harmed while in the keeping of his pet. Satisfied, he lay the tip of the blade at the base of the vampire's throat, a show of power that was never permitted within the vampire court, even when the blade was wielded by the ruling monarch. Sarah's eyes widened at the display of submissiveness from Vanya - if any of his clan or any other clan were to see this, he would be shunned, bricked into a coffin and buried beneath the sea, leaving him to starve to death under the weight of the water.

"I know what you want to feel, boy," Jareth hissed, the cold words belied by the disconcerting sense of desire that underpinned them. "You miss the feel of leather around your throat - marking you."

Vanya's only answer was a soft moan, his eyes shutting once more at the feel of Jareth leaning forward and slowly dragging his tongue over the faint scar upon Vanya's throat - the mark Sarah had witnessed Vanya caressing in her bedroom, a mark which matched its twin upon Jareth's own throat.

The throbbing between Sarah's thighs intensified as Jareth sunk his teeth into the vampire's throat, eliciting a strangled sob from Vanya. When he drew back from Vanya, the scar was once more opened, tiny gems of blood welling up into the wound. Without warning Jareth ran the sharp tip of the dagger down from the base of Vanya's throat toward his sternum, a scarlet line marking his chest. Stilling the blade, with the tip still embedded within the vampire's flesh, Jareth's dark eyes watched patiently as crimson drops collected, pooling until their weight forced them to slide down the channel etched into the blade, drawing them toward the tang.

"You claimed a blood debt from Sarah - but never forget, you owe your blood debt to  _me._ "

Removing the blade from Vanya's chest, Jareth deftly sliced into the pomegranate, the skin splitting with a wet, squelching sound under the force of his blade. Burgundy flesh fell open like a wound that dripped it's own crimson life blood upon the Goblin King's bare feet and the dirt below them.

"We must not look at goblin men….We must not buy their fruits...Who knows upon what soil they fed...Their hungry thirsty roots?" he purred, his timbre of his laughter teasing Sarah's ears, making her knees tremble and her clit pulse with the want of him.

Cursing her mortal weaknesses and the Fae power of sexuality, she squeezed her thighs together tightly, and let her teeth pinch her lip until the sharp pain drew her back from the brink of sexual abandon at the hands of the Goblin King. She was no blushing virgin. After a decade traipsing through the veils and kingdoms of the Above and Below, she had been to her share of high festivals of such Dionysian excess they would put ancient Rome to shame for being too tame. Despite it all, nothing prepared her for this.

Sarah's breath caught in her throat as she watched Jareth's tongue slip past his lips, a velvet spike upon which she longed to impale herself - and any orifice would do, although she had one or two preferred places she would like to have that luscious tongue exploring. Shaking the dangerously errant thought away, Sarah held her breath and watched Jareth run the blade along his tongue, licking away the blood and pomegranate juices. A feral purr rumbled low in his chest as he flicked his tongue over his lips, red drops clinging to it before he sucked them within the warmth of his mouth.

Unmoving, Vanya stood pale and upright in the moonlight, a leather collar now appearing locked around his throat. Jareth stepped closer to the dark vampire, silently snaking his arm around Vanya's back and drinking in the way he shivered, a needy moan sneaking past his lips. Tucking the blade into the holster at the small of Vanya's back, Jareth dug his fingers into the pulp of the pomegranate, the juices streaming thickly over his fingers as he scooped up the succulent pips.

"Hug me, kiss me, suck my juices...Squeez'd from goblin fruits for you...Goblin pulp and goblin dew… Eat me...drink me… love me true…"

Lips parted to whimper, Vanya gasped as Jareth forced three fingers past them, pomegranate pips and juice dripping from the vampire's chin. Obediently Vanya swallowed the fruit, his hungry moan louder as Jareth slowly worked the three fingers in and out of the vampire's pursed lips.

"Good to know you haven't forgotten  _all_  that you learned from me, boy."

Sliding his fingers from Vanya's lips, Sarah heard the squelch as he scooped more succulent pips upon them and sucked them into his own mouth. Entranced by the sight, Sarah licked her own lips watching the entrancing way the crimson juices stained his lips and dripped down his chin to drop upon his chest. Sucking her lip as if to suck upon the sticky-sweetness of the pomegranate juice, Sarah heard a hungry moan of longing, then froze when two pitch black orbs flicked open, staring straight at her hiding spot. A block of ice settled into the pit of her stomach, where the heat of need had been only a moment before.

"Peeping at Goblin Men, Sarah dear?"Jareth tisked, his lips twisting into a wicked smile. "We mustn't look at Goblin Men...we mustn't taste their fruit. But you want to taste, don't you Precious. To feel the pips burst upon your tongue, teasing your senses, as the juices run over your lips and tongue, dribbling down your chin to fall upon the succulent swell of your breasts. You  _long_  to know the taste of  _my_ goblin fruit," he purred, his voice low and soothing, hypnotic as he painted the picture her lust-addled mind most wanted to hear.

Without thinking, Sarah rose and stepped into the moonlight, her eyes no longer upon the tempting face of the Goblin King, but the dripping promise of the pomegranate.

"Come buy...come buy….the fruit is sweet…," he crooned, scooping up more pips upon his fingers, his eyes glittering wickedly in the moonlight. "Do you want it Sarah?"

Reaching for the fruit, Sarah moaned when he pulled it away, offering her only the pips upon his fingers. "There are rules for those who partake of my fruit little Sarah. Rules for those willing to pay the price. Are you willing...precious girl?"

Jareth's fingers curled inward, beckoning her closer. She could smell the sweetness of the fruit, and see the scarlet juices staining his pale hands - and in that moment, she was lost to him. All reason fled as she grasped his wrist, pulling his hand forward and engulfing his fingers in her greedy mouth. Sucking and licking, she gorged herself upon the taste of both the luscious fruit and the Goblin King's flesh, the sound of his soft laughter surrounding her, as he pulled her close.

"We must not peep at Goblin Men...we must not buy their fruit…"

His words whispered inside her mind, just as the sweetness of the fruit lingered upon her lips. In the next instant she felt the sharp sting of teeth piercing the side of her neck, the sudden pain giving way to euphoria as her body trembled violently. A steely arm pinned her to the firm body of the Goblin King, holding her tight. Flashes of light and color burst behind her eyes, with each crashing wave of orgasmic bliss that flood through her, rushing outward, only to begin again, until she was screaming soundlessly into the night, with each pull of his mouth upon her throat.

Then…. There was nothing.

**~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~**

"Holy fuck!" Sarah gasped, her eyes flying open to velvet blackness. Blinking, she shivered as her eyes adjusted, the deep purple lace canopy that hung over her bed fading into focus.

For several moments she lay there, still shuddering from the intensity of the orgasms that had rushed through her in her sleep. As her breathing started to slow, she felt the ache in her hands and groaned, forcing her fingers to release the sheets, where she had twisted the material tight in her fists. Beneath her, the buttery cotton was damp with sweat, sticking to her clammy skin, grown cool with the passing of her arousal. Feeling her heart still racing in her chest, Sarah moved her hand to pull up the covers, only to moan as another rush of pleasure tore through her, leaving her breathless once more. "Bloody Hell…" she moaned in surprise.

Her first orgasm had felt like this, intense in its ferocity, as it seemed to take over her body, leaving her a sweating, shuddering wreck, twisted amongst the sheets of her teen age bed - and it too had involved Jareth. The night of her victory over the Labyrinth, she had dreamed of the Goblin King, an angry, vengeful Goblin King who chose to take out his anger on her by claiming her body and soul. From that night on she craved his touch and the only way to slake that hunger was to pleasure herself. But it was never the same. She dabbled with mortal boys from the time she turned 15 until her 16th birthday, but their sweaty, drunken fumblings were no match for the Goblin King who still haunted her dreams. Once she found her way through the mists to the Underground, she managed to find pleasure with a few partners here and there, but orgasms were becoming few and far between, no matter how 'experienced' and attentive her partner was. Finally, she gave up. The only pleasure she found now was in her dreams with the Goblin King - not that she'd ever admit that to a living (or unliving) soul, or at her own hand...and even that was getting to be harder to achieve.

Breathing deep to quell the racing of her heart, Sarah noticed the strong scent of rain soaked soil swirling around her. A quiet smile curled her lips as she rolled toward the chair near the window, the damp sheet falling down to expose her bare breasts to the chill of the night air in her room.

"You could have joined me," she laughed quietly, a slender hand running through her hair, flipping it back over her shoulders. Her eyes quickly adjusted to the darkness of the room, falling upon a shadowy figure in the arm chair.

"Actually, the view was quite interesting from this vantage point," Zora murmured, her voice soft and melodic. "Must've been some kind of dream to get you to come like that."

Smiling at the faint edge to Zora's voice which spoke of the vampire's arousal and jealousy, Sarah felt her cheeks flush hotly. Their relationship had been brief and deliciously sensual, but was in the past - for the most part. There were still times when either or both of them needed the comfort of a friend. So the intimacy remained, not that Sarah was bothered by it. "

Yeah...it was intense. No sense lying about it. I know you can smell it."

"Indeed...and it is quite intoxicating," the Matriarch purred, then tilted her head, her tone colder when she spoke. "I don't recall you ever smelling quite so sweet for me, Saranka?"

Sarah bit her lip and glanced at the clock. 4:00 am. Sighing, she wondered why such things always seemed to happen in the quiet hours before dawn. "Zora...don't start. You know I have… difficulty with that. I'll take it however it comes, even if I'm asleep when it happens." Sarah sat up, pulling her silk robe up the bed and sliding it on, then flicking on the bedside lamp. "What brings you here at this ridiculous hour?"

Rising from her chair, Zora moved toward the bed, lounging at the foot as she studied her friend and sometime lover. Sarah's face was flushed with excitement, sweat glistening lightly across the swell of her breasts. She looked delectable, yet there was something Sarah was holding back. Shrugging, Zora stretched out her legs, leaning her back against the foot-board, the leather of her pants creaking faintly in the early morning silence of the room.

"A little bat told me the Goblin King was here. I'm merely here to protect the interests of the clan."

Sarah crossed her arms over her chest, hiding her peaked nipples from the vampire's keen eyes. Her lips pulled to a tight line at Zora's implication. "Oh for fuck's sake, Zee! I'm probably the best protected mortal in the human world, not to mention one of the more deadly mortals both Above and Below. I'm fine. Besides, Jareth means me no harm. He's here for help." Seeing Zora's eyebrow rise, her dark eyes glittering red with interest and a hint of jealousy, Sarah shook her head, "No, that is all I will say on the matter. Confidentiality and all that."

Zora tilted her head, her eyes narrowing thoughtfully as she regarded the human. Shifting, she crawled up the bed toward Sarah, keenly aware of the way the mortal woman's breath stuttered in her throat, her heartbeat clearly audible to the vampire's sensitive ears. Tenderly, she caressed Sarah's cheek, leaning forward until her lips were a mere hairs-breadth from the creamy flesh. Breathing deeply, Zora purred low in her throat as she drank in Sarah's scent, the delicate pheromones telling her what she wished to know.

"I hate it when you do that, Zee," Sarah grumbled, pulling her head back and shoving the vampire away. "Either kiss me or back the fuck off. I don't need you acting like a jealous lover just now."

Ignoring her, Zora sat next to Sarah, leaning against the mountain of pillows that were piled at the head of the bed, her eyes dark upon her kindred. "There is no guise upon you, Sarah. No oath. No claim. So why be so tight-lipped over the Goblin King's request of you?"

"I protect friends, just as you do."

Zora's eyes narrowed further, her deep red lips pulling tight in a frown. "You claim the Goblin King… Crown Prince… Lord of the Labyrinth and Guardian of the Unwanted as…a  _friend_?"

Taken aback, Sarah paused then gave a hesitant nod"Um… yes? Why does everyone find that so odd?"

"Claiming him as friend gives him power over you, Sarah. And voicing it makes it a binding magical contract."

Waving the vampire queen's comment away, Sarah muttered, "Yes, I'm aware of that. I've had my share of dealings with Underground denizens."

"But the power goes both ways. It gives you power over him as well. That is a double-edged sword. Be wary of that. If he wanted, he could use that power and the contract to force you to do… well...any number of things. Be on your guard."

Silently, Sarah considered the implications of what she had done. During her ten years traveling the mists, she had gone out of her way to avoid running into Jareth or even letting him find out about her existence in his world, and here she had claimed him as a friend twice in the last twenty-four hours - and he had heard the claim one of those times. Letting her claim him as a friend, meant Jareth knowingly gave her power over him, but her claim gave him power as well. In hindsight, the fact that he knowingly accepted the claim puzzled her. It was not something done lightly in the Underground, yet he made no move to counter the claim.

"Hey, what's the deal between the Goblin King and Vanya? They were involved, I know that. But Vanya mentioned something about the Waraschprunga. I've never heard you two mention it before, or your clan."

Zora's mood visibly darkened, her jaw tightening. "The relationship between them is something that neither has spoken to me about. I have my suspicions based upon how they act, but no proof. As for the Waraschprunga, it was a war between the Fae and the Nephilim. My family was caught in the middle. We have always been loyal to the Fae, especially those of Jareth's line. Yet our clan descends from both Fae and Nephilim. Jareth insisted Vanya choose a side, so he did...the side of our Father - with the Nephilim. Whatever their relationship was, the Waraschprunga ended it. It took years for them to speak to one another again."

Sarah rubbed a hand over her face trying to reconcile the relationship she saw in her dream with what Zora described. Shaking away the thoughts that roiled restlessly through her mind, she sighed. "I'll never get back to sleep now. Want to work off some energy?"

Zora's burgundy lips twisted into a dark smile as she nodded. "I thought you'd never ask."

**~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~**

There were things Jareth detested about the mortal plane. Iron for instance. It was inescapable. Everything was either made of it, supported by it or carried it in some way - even humans. He understood the mortal need to use it for things, but it didn't make-up for the low-grade pain that being around such quantities of the noxious stuff caused for him. Mortal food was another thing that he hated about the human world. Their food often had no taste at all to Fae tongues. If human food had a taste, Jareth's thought it could best be described as… grey.

There were many things he disliked about the world Above, tut the thing he hated most about traveling the mortal plane were the dreams.

Dreams.

Humans took them for granted as simple vignettes conjured up by an overactive mind during one's sleep. And for humans, that was generally all their dreams were. However for the Fae, and many other Underground races, dreaming was anything but simple. Fae rarely were visited with dreams when Underground and when they did, they were always prophetic in some way. But for one such as Jareth, dreams were far more rare and always prophetic.

Flashes of Vanya and the pomegranate flickered through his mind, until a sour feeling settled in his stomach. Their clandestine relationship had ended nearly a century before, yet that one dream reawakened a need he had thought extinguished.

Then there was Sarah.

Since she had defeated the Labyrinth, on the rare occasion that Jareth dreamed it always included Sarah, and always included having her screaming her release at his hands. Groaning, Jareth ran a hand down his chest, trying to ignore the throbbing length that demanded its own release. WIthin his mind he heard Sarah's words echoing with bitter clarity - 'It's not fair!'

Fighting the urge to provide the release he needed, Jareth rolled over, forcing his eyes shut, only to open them once more at the muted thud next door. A moment later there was another thud, closer to the wall this time. Sitting up, he blinked, his predatory senses coming forward as he listened. Faint thumps, grunts and growls reached his ears, followed by a louder bumping noise. His fingers closed upon a crystal as he pulled it from the air, frowning at the blackness that filled the shimmering skin. Cursing the strength of the wards he had placed upon the flat, he hurled the crystal toward the wall where it popped, and got out of bed. More thumping and grunting could be heard from the next room, piquing his curiosity since they were not accompanied by yells that would indicate an attack upon Sarah or her brother.

His footsteps were silent on the plush carpet as he left the room, ignoring the way the light material of his lounging pants teased his flesh, doing nothing to dissuade his erection. Pausing beside the partially open door, Jareth peered inside, a strange sense of heat flooding him at what he saw. Sarah lay on the padded floor of the room, her body barely covered in a pair of tight shorts, which left her lithe legs bar to his gaze, while the small tank top closely clung to the fullness of her breasts. Sitting astride Sarah's hips was Vanya's twin sister, Zora. Both women were flushed and panting.

Squirming, Sarah fought the supernatural strength of the vampire, to no avail.

"Give in, Saranka," Zora purred, leaning close enough to kiss Sarah. A low moan slipped past Sarah's lips as Zora's hips ground firmly against hers, teasing the still sensitive flesh. "Enjoying the show, Your Highness? Or did you want to join us?"

Tensing in surprise, Sarah's head turned, catching the movement of the door as Jareth nudged it open and stepped inside the training room. His hair was mussed, as if he had just woken up, but he still looked like the most sensual creature across the worlds, which was saying something since her vampire lover was holding her down.

Clearing his throat, Jareth waved a dismissive hand toward the two women. "I didn't want to intrude, although I'm surprised that Sarah doesn't have the common sense to lock the door to keep Toby from being exposed to such...intimacies."

Sarah snarled, turning to look at Zora as the vampire laughed at the Goblin King. With a grunt, Sarah slammed her hips upward, catching Zora off guard and flipping her onto the mat. In one smooth movement, she rolled and pinned Zora down, a hand upon the vampire's throat, her knees digging tight into Zora's ribs, while her feet locked down her legs.

"Rule number one that you taught me, never get distracted by pretty boys...or girls ," Sarah laughed, panting. Keeping her eyes on Zora, she smirked, catching sight of Jareth slowly walking around the two of them. "And we are not being...intimate, Goblin King. We are sparring."

Zora's laugh echoed with a strange timbre through the room, as her body relaxed into the mats. "This is the Goblin King, Saranka. As memory serves, his idea of a foreplay _is_  sparring."

Arching an eyebrow, Sara glanced up at Jareth, his expression carefully neutral and disaffected. Her lips quirked upward as she regarded him, then grinned. "Hmm… good to know. I wonder if that counts for verbal sparring as well."

In that unguarded moment, Zora darted up and licked the tip of Sarah's nose, distracting her. Howling, Sarah scrambled off Zora, only to collapse in giggles upon the floor. Dark eyes sparkled mischievously, when Zora sat up, stretching her long legs out so that the tight shorts she wore clung to every curve of her slender form.

"Oh, he's quite the fan of oral sparring… in all it's many forms. Right Your Highness?"

Pursing his lips, Jareth crossed his arms over his chest and glared coldly at the vampire. "If I remember correctly, so do you Yannesh Vampyre. Although I am flattered you remember my...predilections."

Laughing warmly, Zora hopped to her feet, cupping Jareth's face and kissing him upon both cheeks. Silently, Jareth returned the kiss, then much to Sarah's continued confusion,, the Goblin King and Vampire Matriarch captured each other's lips in a kiss that was just a fraction to passionate to be a formal or 'ritualistic' greeting - and it was just this side of 'too friendly' as well. In fact, Sarah felt for an instant that she should tell them to get a room, or leave them alone.

A hot, festering feeling took root in the pit of her stomach, making her feel nauseated. The sudden realization that she was jealous. Witnessing her former lover kissing the Goblin King left her shaken. She had seen Zora kiss others before, and had even seen her participate in various hedonistic celebrations which included the vampire queen having sex with others - none of which bothered Sarah. But seeing Zora kissing the person she had hoped would be the first to kiss her, left Sarah off balance. Swallowing heavily, Sarah coughed, a sense of relief spreading through her when they broke their kiss.

"I see you two are quite familiar terms," she muttered, fighting to keep the jealousy out of her tone, but failing where her words were concerned. "I guess what they say about Vampire and Fae sexual mores is correct….both races fuck anything willing...and probably unwilling too."

"I assure you, there are more than enough willing partners to make taking someone unwilling, completely pointless," Jareth drawled with a sly smirk, his pale eyes narrowing at the bitterness in Sarah's words. He expected many things from Sarah in seeing his kiss Zora, but the icy chill of bitterness was not one of them.

Laughing Zora slid her arm around Sarah's waist, pulling her close and kissing her cheek with easy familiarity. "Don't be jealous, Saranka. Jareth and I have known each other for centuries now."

Tensing at the caress, Sarah looked from Jareth to Zora, her lips pinching in a slight frown. "I take it that he's had both you and Vanya both at some point."

Zora grinned and tilted her head, her blood red lips twisting into a wicked smile as she gave Jareth an appraising look. "Yes...and he knows the offer still stands should he wish to take me up on it again."

A hum of magic burned in the air around Jareth at her words, his eyes flickering from pale blue to deep navy. Shivering inwardly, Sarah watched Jareth taking a deep breath, before the magic receded again. For a brief instant she wondered if Jareth wanted to accept the offer, but the speed with which he fought down the magical flood, made her think better of it. There was something else going on - something even Zora wasn't aware of.

"Thank you, but these days I prefer only to bed those who are unattached," Jareth replied, his words hard and cold. "Besides, I'd hate to break up a happy couple," he added, his tone colder now as he looked from Zora to Sarah.

Feeling her cheeks flush hotly, Sarah shrugged, trying to seem unaffected, while her jealousy writhed within her. "She's fair game if you want her. We are no longer 'an item' as they say Above."

Taking great delight in the awkwardness between the Goblin King and his Champion, Zora smirked knowingly and laughed. "Sarah, you stink of sweat and your own need. And Jareth appears to have…  _other_ problems that should be taken care of," she purred, eying the bulge that was still clearly visible beneath the thin Elven linen of his lounging pants. "I see you still enjoy a bit of voyeurism, Jareth." Before he could do more than open his mouth to retorst, she continued, "Anyway… you two need to take care of your issues… either together or separately. However, I'd suggest together. A shower for two would be far more enjoyable for his problem than a cold shower and his own hand, and by the veils, you would benefit from a good shag too, Sarah. It's been far too long, darling," she quipped, heading for the door of the training room. "I'm going to make breakfast and see the twerp off for his weekend with Diangela for lessons. Go do what you have to do will you? The stench of need in here is worst than a Troll brothel!"

Sarah spluttered inarticulately, her face practically glowing with embarrassment. Fighting the urge to fling fairy fire at the retreating figure of the Vampire Queen, Jareth felt his cock twitch at the thought of Sarah helping him with his 'problem' after the willing way she gave herself over to his power in his dream. Before he could move to leave the room or speak to Sarah, Zora poked her head back into the room.

"By the way, I've brought fresh pomegranates from the Caringel for breakfast. I know you both like them."

As one Jareth and Sarah's heads snapped up to look at her.

"Pomegranates…" Sarah gasped, her cheeks burning hotter still at the curious look Jareth gave her.

"Pomegranates…" he murmured thoughtfully, his pale eyes pinning Sarah in place with a studious gaze.

"We must not peek at Goblin Men...we must not eat their fruits," chirped Zora as she retreated down the hall, leaving Sarah and Jareth alone in the training room.


	5. Beguiled and Bewildered

Jareth arched an elegant eyebrow and peered thoughtfully at the wide-eyed brunette, still staring at the door where the minx Vampyre Matriarch had been a moment before. Her surprise at the reference to pomegranates suggested more than a mere love of the fruit. Beneath the fine linen, he felt the heat grow within him again, the firm length pulsing with want against his thigh.

"We must not peer at Goblin Men...we must not taste their fruit,"crooned the Goblin King, his tone low and mesmerizing. Sarah trembled, his words seeming to the make the air around her vibrate with power. "But you have already had a taste, haven't you... _Champion_. And you crave another. You need it like you need air to breathe."

Startled from remembering the intensity of the scene she saw in her dream, Sarah's head whipped up, a gasp dying falling from her lips to find the Goblin King towering over her, having backed her against the wall. He leaned on his forearm, tilting his head owlishly as he regarded her, his pale eyes glittering golden and avian for a brief instant, before flickering to deep black. His lips were curled in a dark smile that held promises of far more than goblin fruit.

"No...no...there will be eating of goblin fruit...no pips...no seeds...no juices...no dew… Nothing...nope...not peaches...not pomegranates. There will be NO goblin fruit eaten in this house, Goblin King," Sarah rambled, her hand coming up to rest against his chest, to push him back enough that she could breathe again. The closeness of him was overpowering, giving the air between them a weight that seemed to press upon her lungs, while his scent permeated every atom around them and throughout her body. "Nope. No goblin fruit. That way lies...well… trouble. And I don't fuck clients."

Sarah watched transfixed as he pulled a juicy apple from the air, twirling it upon his fingertips. The heat pouring off of him was incredible, begging her to throw her arms around him and burrow into it. Blinking she shook her head, trying to focus on his words and what she had been trying to do.  _Can't think...how...how is he doing this...thrall? No...Fae don't thrall...they lure and enchant..._ she thought frantically before her mind stilled, the hum of white noise filling her head as her mind and soul focused solely upon the apple he offered her. The ruby skin, so delicately speckled with flecks of gold and green, which seemed to dance across the flesh.

"I said nothing about  _fucking_ , Champion… just fruit," he drawled, his pale eyes darkening until they flickered nearly black. "Although...the idea has merit."

Smirking openly now, Jareth's tongue curled around the sharp points of his canines, remembering the sweet cry she gave in his dream when he bit into her own succulent flesh. The sensual curl of his tongue over the points captured Sarah's attention, holding her rapt until his low rumbling laugh shook her back to her senses once more.

"Do you want it, Sarah?" he purred, the apple perched upon his outstretched fingertips.

Shaking her head harder now, Sarah shoved him back, shivering from the intensity of his gaze. With a deft twist of her body she spun away from him, her body immediately dropping lower in case he attacked. "Jareth… I don't know what's going on right now...but let's just get something straight. I don't fuck clients and whatever you're trying to do with the fruit, it's not going to work."

The blackness flickering in his eyes faded to silver for a brief instant before returning.

"And if I weren't a client…." he purred, letting the question hang in the air as he advanced upon her again, the sultry tone in his voice settling within her head like a fog.

Sarah groaned, she didn't want to hurt Jareth - even after everything he put her through in the Labyrinth, but something was wrong. He was giving off all the signs of being controlled, but what being would be powerful enough to control the mighty Goblin King and Crown Prince of the Nether?

"Um...let's just see where how we feel about things when we reach that point, yeah?" she countered, side-stepping him and cursing as he put himself between her and the only exit from the room. "Let's just find your sister first. Okay?"

At the mention of his sister, the darkness fled from his eyes, flowing from him like waves pulled away from the sand. In an instant his preternaturally pale face turned a sickly, ashen grey, the apple falling from his hand and turning to dust before it hit the mat of the exercise room. As his hand fell slack at his side, he mumbled so softly his words like leaves upon the wind.

"Anwyn."

Sarah watched striken, a growing sense of horror filling her. She felt as if she were trapped in treacle, everything seeming to happen in slow-motion and all at once. One moment Jareth's eyes gawped vacantly at her, his mouth slack, then without a sound the Goblin King's eyes rolled upward, his legs collapsing under him.

"Zora!" she screamed, rushing forward and catching him just before his head hit the mat, his body dead weight against her.

The training room door slammed open a moment later, as Zora burst in, her entire being responding to the panic in Sarah's voice. Around her a flickering haze of red formed, while blood garnet blades appeared in her hands, from the holsters secreted along her forearms. Frowning, she took in the sight before her. "I said fuck him, not kill him, Saranka," she grumbled, replacing the blades in their holsters and bending down to help Sarah. "And if you're going to get the clan outlawed by attacking the High Prince, don't do it in a building we own and do it right. He's still alive!"

"I wasn't trying to kill him, Zee!" Sarah growled, then grunted as she tried to lift him up, the limp weight of him more than she could carry. "Help me get him into the spare room. He...I don't know… was possessed maybe? He tried to tempt me with Goblin Fruit until I mentioned his sister."

With her arm around Jareth, Zora froze and looked at Sarah, her violet eyes rimmed with deep red. Around her the air hissed and snapped. "Anwyn?" hissed, glaring at Sarah. "What about her?"

"Yeah…I guess that is her name," Sarah grunted, trying to lift Jareth higher up on her shoulder.

"Fuck…" Zora hissed, swinging Jareth over her shoulder like a rag doll and moving toward the door, her steps quick and sure as she effortlessly took the Goblin King from Sarah and carried him toward the spare room. "What mess have you two goblin brats gotten yourselves into this time," she muttered, kicking the door of the room open.

"Zee...what aren't you telling me?" Sarah demanded, following Zora. She could feel the change in the temperature around her friend and knew that it meant trouble.

Grunting slightly, Zora placed Jareth on the bed in the spare room, frowning at the wan face lolling amongst the mess of bedclothes and pillows. "Anwyn is his twin," she sighed, dropping into the armchair and watching Jareth with growing concern.

Sarah's eyes widened as she glanced at Zora, the vampire queen's posture tense as her dark eyes regarded Jareth, studying him for a reason Sarah could not yet fathom. "Twin? Wait...Jareth has a twin? You mean…"

"Yes...they are like me and Vanya. We were all born the same year in fact. Van and I in the middle of winter, Anwyn and Jareth in the middle of summer," the vampire sighed, running her hand restlessly through the burgundy flecked tresses that flowed over her shoulder. "Two sets of twins, marking the two halves of the year."

"Dark and light," Sarah muttered, moving closer to the ashen figure on the bed, his slender fingers splayed over his stomach.

"Yeah. Our families have always been bound together. For the longest time everyone assumed that I was the dark maid that was destined for the light prince, and the same for Anne and Vanya. But given Vanya's predilections and my own, that is clearly not the case." Zora replied, her burgundy lips pursing in a pensive frown. Turning she pinned Sarah with a steely look, her jaw tight. "Will you tell me why he sought out the Finder, now?"

Shaking her head, Sarah sighed, straightening the blankets on Jareth's bed. "Zee, you know I can't do that without his permission," she said, ignoring the vampire's irritated growl.

Sarah felt a deep sense of disquiet as she looked at Jareth, the way his hair lay careless and limp across the pillow, somehow managed to make him look even more vulnerable. In the years since she had been through the Labyrinth, she had imagined him many times and even imagined what it would be like to see him in her bed - or any other. But somehow, seeing him like this seemed horribly wrong.

"Should we call someone?" she asked, sitting next to him on the bed and drawing the sheet over his body. Her fingers gently wrapped around his, moving his hand to lay atop the crisp white linen upon his chest. "What about his grandmother? She could help?"

"No, no need to disturb her. He's still breathing, that's something at least," the vampire replied, her tone brusque. "Jareth would be furious for anyone to see him like this, even fact that he reacted when you mentioned his sister makes me think it is directly related to her." With a frown, Zora stood and crossed to the bed, a small blood red blade laying on her open palm. Offering it to Sarah, she nodded, "Here, take this. I'm going to go talk to Vanya. He and Jareth may have had their differences, but if someone is trying to kill Jareth and Anwyn, he'll want in on protecting them." Seeing Sarah's confusion, Zora squeezed her shoulder gently. "If Jareth wakes up and tries to beguile you again, cut yourself and get a bit of your blood on his lip or skin. The clan blood within you should snap him out of it." Sarah's expression flitted from horrified to curious in an instant, making Zora chuckle. "Like I said, our lines are bound to one another with magic so old, no one really understands how it works. Sometimes, like now, it has it's uses. Other times we just bicker like siblings. I'll be back as soon as I can," she murmured, her dark lips brushing against Sarah's in a tender kiss, that made Sarah's stomach flutter with emotions she had thought were long past where the vampire matriarch was concerned, but the moment Jareth moaned, all thought of her former lover fled, as her eyes dropped to his waxen face.

Caressing Sarah's cheek lightly, Zora watched Sarah respond to Jareth's quiet groan, beginning to sense a truth that had left the gypsy seer's of her clan mystified for for a century.

"If you need help with him, call. But, I'm pretty sure if anyone can handle the Goblin King, it will be the Labyrinth Champion. We'll be upstairs if you should need us, Saranka," she said, then gave herself up to the mysts, fading from view.

**~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~**

Groaning, Jareth rolled over, his eyes shut tight against the throbbing that had set up camp behind his eyes. _'Hell's Bells… what happened to me?'_ he moaned inwardly, as he tried to find the quiet, painless peace he had drifted out of. The sheets he was wrapped in felt odd against his body, far too coarse to be his own. Hissing he cracked his eyes open, peering into the cool grey of the room, a frown tugging at his lips seeing the strange surroundings. He'd woken up many different places over the years, but this felt off, as if the world were somehow tilted off center. Bit by bit flashes of the last 24 hours came back to him - assassins...the Finder...the brothel...Toby...an irritating cursed cat...Sarah and…

"Anwyn!" he gasped, pushing himself upright in the bed, then blinked stupidly to find a startled brunette launching herself to a seated position next to him with a fierce grunt.

"What?!" she snarled, looking around wildly, two shimmering red blades in her hands as she readied to attack. Blinking at the empty bedroom, she cocked her head and arched an eyebrow at Jareth, her eyes narrowing to glittering green points. "Are you trying to give me a heart attack, Goblin King?" she snapped, then yawned..

Jareth shook his head and rubbed his eyes, then looked at her once more, as if to be sure he was really seeing Sarah. He wasn't sure what to focus on first, the fact that she was in bed with him, the fact that she was barely clothed, or the fact that she was clearly armed and dangerous, even when sleeping.

"Do you always sleep armed?" he frowned, taking in the serrated edges of the blades in her hands.

"Only when sleeping with Goblin Kings who tried to beguile me with fruit, then faint on me," she shrugged, tucking the blades back into their holsters along her inner arms."

"Speaking of which, why are you in bed with me anyway? And why have you changed clothes?" he added, his confusion growing, as his eyes were drawn to the pale violet camisole that clung to the smooth curves of her breasts, accentuating the toned muscles of her arms and abdomen, before hugging her waist. In her haste to fall into a defensive position, the sheet had fallen low around her waist, revealing a pair of plaid flannel shorts.

"You fainted, I needed to keep an eye on you, and yeah I showered. Thought about putting you in a bath too, but it would've meant bringing Zora back in here to help strip you, and I figured you might either find that horribly offensive, or be disappointed that you missed out on two girls giving you a bath. So I thought it best to just leave you passed out."

"Wait...what?" he asked, his mind finally catching up with what she had said. "Beguiled you?"

Jareth's pale eyes glittered. Huffing with irritation he flopped back into the pillows. "Hah hah...not funny, Sarah."

"Actually, I was serious about that part," she said, pushing back the covers and standing up. Seeing the sleek musculature of her legs, Jareth shook his head, trying to focus on her words and not the temptingly beautiful young woman she had become. "The bath well...it was a fun thought, but after the beguiling, I wasn't game to think about stripping you down, you might decide that was an invitation and really balk at taking 'no' as an answer."

A frown creased the aristocratic arch between Jareth's eyes, as he looked at her, an icy knot settling in chest at the thought of what he might have done to her. "Wait...you're serious? I did...what?"

Sarah shrugged, flicking the dark fall of hair over her shoulder. "I don't know, Jareth. I honestly don't. One moment you were kissing Zora, then the next you were offering me goblin fruit and didn't seem too intent on taking no as an answer. Then I mentioned your sister, at which point you turned a terrifying shade of death-grey and dropped like a stone," she added, moving toward the chair.

"Wait," he said, reaching out, and grasping her wrist as she moved to turn away. Immediately Sarah, responded, twisting out of his hands and stepping back, a blade once more in her hands, poised as if to strike her own palm with the wicked edge. Jareth sat back, his hands raised passively, his frown deepening at the realization that the blade was aimed at her own flesh rather than his. "Wait...I'm sorry… I just… I'm confused. I don't remember trying to tempt you," he said, sighing as he rubbed a hand through his hair, the fine strands fluffing out around his head in the way she remembered, even if the whole effect was far shorted now.

Eying him warily, Sarah pulled her robe from the foot of the bed and tugged it on, giving the sash a vicious tug to tighten it around her body. "Look, I get that you're confused. I am too. Just...don't touch me right now, Jareth. I don't want to hurt you, because, well...I don't really fancy a charge of attempted regicide or anything," she replied, her body seeming to pull deeper into the fluffy robe. Giving him a steely glare, she raised a single finger and pointed it at him, her tone cold. "But if I think for one second you are going to hurt me, Toby or… my kindred, I won't hesitate. And that's a promise."

"Understandable, Sarah. From what I've learned of you, I wouldn't expect any less," he said, nodding as he sat up against the head of the bed. Bending his knee, he leaned his arm across the top of it and shook his head. "If I did such a thing as try to beguile you, I apologize. I do not remember doing so."

Sarah sat against the foot of the bed, her emerald eyes studying him. She wanted to believe that he was telling the truth and that his actions in the training room had not been intentional, but she'd had enough dealings with the Fae to be cautious.

"You're High Fae, so you can't lie to mortals willingly and you are bound by particular rules regarding when you can attempt to beguile them, right?"

Jareth grimaced slightly, then her explanation was correct, but it was far more intricate than that. "It's a bit crude of an explanation, but more or less accurate. Most High Fae adhere to the rules, knowing that to go against them risks being banished to the Darkness."

Crossing her legs, Sarah tucked the robe around her feet before looking at him again. "So, do you want to tell me why your twin was Aboveground?"

At the mention of his twin, Jareth's head snapped up, his eyes darkening angrily. "How…."

Sarah raised her hand and shook her head, "Easy there Goblin King. You're a hefty weight for one lone mortal to lift when you are dead to the world. I had to call Zora in to help me shift you back into this bed. When I told her the name you said, she mentioned that Anwyn was your twin. That's it."

Growling low in his chest, Jareth frowned, "Did you tell her why I am here?"

"Look, we may not have a full blood oath at this point, but I still treat my clients needs confidentially," she snapped, tucking a stray lock of dark hair behind her ear. Sighing, she relaxed again, "She has guessed that your behavior has something to do with your twin, so it's a fair guess she and Vanya will both be back before dinner demanding to know what is going on. We might as well start discussing things so we've got a jump on solving this before they demand to join the investigation."

Jareth sniffed derisively, shaking his head. "For a vampire that supposedly cares about you, she left you in a dangerous position, Sarah. If that is what passes as protecting the kindred, I think I would pass."

"What's that supposed to mean, Jareth? I have managed to keep myself alive for the last eight years, no thanks to you," she grumbled, trying to avoid looking at the bare expanse of his chest, smooth and lightly muscled, adorned only by the sigil which lay below his sternum.

"I tried to beguile you in an unknowing state! What would have been prevented me from trying worse when she left you?" he demanded, the heat in his words hinting at a level of emotion Sarah didn't expect. "You don't know what crazed Fae are capable of, Sarah!"

Slumping against the pillows, Jareth crossed his arms over his chest with a harrumph, vaguely irritated at his own outburst. The unfamiliar burst of anger at the thought that he might have hurt her was puzzling. If he didn't need to find Anwyn and soon, he'd return to the Nether that very moment and never look back - nothing about dealing with Sarah had ever been easy.

When Sarah opened her mouth to speak, Jareth expected anger and harsh words, only to be surprised by her quiet tone. "First, I've had a run in or two with a crazed Fae, Jareth and I survived. Yeah, I've got a few permanent reminders, but I am familiar with the idea," she said, absently rubbing her side, where more than one scar was now hidden by the robe. "Second, you yourself set the wards on my home so that no one could harm me in these walls without suffering consequences - that extends to you as well. And last, Zora left me this," she said, showing him the glittering red blade.

"A blood garnet knife?" he asked, glancing questioningly from the knife, to Sarah's face. "That's a vampire blade, designed to kill nephilim."

"Yes, it is. This one belonged to Zora's grandmother. I saw it in an etching in their castle. She said if you tried to beguile me, that I should draw my own blood and either make you taste it or get it on your skin. She said that would snap you out of it."

The slow light of understanding flickered in Jareth's pale eyes, as he looked at the blade then waved his hand, his shoulders slumping further against the pillows. "Keep that close, Sarah. Champion or not, I tried once without knowing it, I have no way of guaranteeing that I would not attempt such again."

Sarah tucked the knife away, then reached over and gently patted his foot, the touch startling him enough to pull his foot away. He was the Crown Prince, it was rare for anyone except family members and confidants to touch him without permission.

"Jareth...it's okay. I'm not worried. I don't think you really wanted to hurt me, no matter what you said at the time. Though I am curious how my blood, tainted by Zora's own, would stop you."

She watched silently as Jareth's fingers ran idly over the small scar on his throat, his gaze far away in thought before answering her. "I too am kindred. The faintest hint of clan blood would spark the blood memory and halt me from hurting you further."

"Good to know," she murmured softly, then gave him a quiet smile. "I doubt that I'll never need it, Jareth. But if it would make you feel better, I'm sure Zora will let me keep the blade until we can get your problem fixed."

Nodding, Jareth ran a hand over his chest and the sigil which hung there. "I would feel better about it, Sarah. I have no wish to harm you or Toby in any way, no matter what you may think of me."

"It's okay, Jareth. I actually don't believe you mean us any harm, not back when we first met or now."

Jareth watched her pulling her knees to her chest then wrapping her arms around him. Her lips pulled tight in thought, as she looked calmly at him. She looked for all the world like a young woman who should be tucked in a college dorm discussing boyfriends and writing term papers, not masquerading through the mysts between the world taking questionable and dangerous jobs from the likes of the Goblin King - yet here she was.

"So, given that the mention of your sister snapped you out of whatever made you act like that, would it be safe to assume your attempt to beguile me has something to do with whatever has happened to your twin?" she asked, interrupting his musings.

Jareth frowned, letting her words sink in before nodding. "I suppose that could explain the strange behaviour. Although I'm not sure why it would affect me so."

"Well… I have a theory on that, but it may not hold true for High Fae," she murmured, tapping a purple lacquered nail against her chin.

Before him, Sarah's gaze shifted, her eyes softening as she stared at the mirror above the dresser, seeming to use the reflection to turn inward, lost in thought. Seconds passed, while Sarah remained silent, her lips moving without a sound. A moment later she blinked, then looked at him, her entire demeanor changing in an instant, giving him the vivid impression that he had just seen something light up within her mind.

"You and Anwyn were born at the opposite equinox to Vanya and Zora. Two sets of twins. I assume then, that like Vanya and Zora, you two can share emotions when stressed?" she asked bluntly.

While Vanya and Zora had each spoken to him of their emotional link, and Jareth had witnessed it on more than once occasion himself, he had never confided in them that he and Anwyn shared a similar bond. Even as children, he and his sister had known early on that if they let anyone know of their secret bond, they would be putting each other at risk, so they had vowed never to divulge the depth of their connection. They had spent their time in the womb protecting each other, they would continue to do so all the days of their lives.

Sarah watched as Jareth tensed, his hands pulling into fists at his sides. In the space of two breaths, they relaxed again, but the muscles in his shoulders were still tense.  _Clearly he is skilled at remaining cool and aloof - as a king in his own right and the Crown Prince, it was probably drilled into him from the time he first began to talk. But I can't help him if he can't be honest with me._

"Look Jareth, I realize that admitting that sort of bond could put you and Anwyn in danger, but if I'm going to be able to help you find her, I need you to trust me with the truth," she said gently, giving him a reassuring smile. "I have no wish to harm you or your sister either. I only want to help."

Running his hand through his hair, Jareth glanced at her, then gave a reluctant nod. "Twins are rare in Fae lines, so it was assumed by some that Anwyn and I were an aberration - a throw-back to the Nephilim taint within our blood. My own parents were advised to put us to death as soon as the midwives saw there was more than one babe."

Shaking her head, Sarah frowned, an odd sense of protectiveness welling within her at his words. "That's barbaric. I'm glad your parents didn't listen!"

"As am I," he said, giving her a wry smile. "But our life was complicated as a result. Most Fae accept twins as a special gift, but there are those who believe we are to be feared." Tilting his head, he regarded quietly a moment. "Tell me, how did you guess such a thing?"

Sarah shrugged, "It's hard to explain. Some of it just makes sense to me because Vanya and Zora share such a bond, and that sort of bond has been researched in mortal twins. I thought perhaps, the same would hold true for you and Anwyn."

Jareth frowned, shaking his head, "But you seemed so sure that was the answer. It was as if you knew."

"That's just it, since I returned from your Labyrinth, I have developed the ability to...I don't know, understand things. It is as if something whispers in my mind and I know that it's the truth. That is what helps me do what I do, I suppose," she replied, rubbing her arm sheepishly.

"You are a seer?" Jareth murmured, his pale eyes narrowing thoughtfully upon her face.

"What? No...I don't see prophecy or anything, I just… can suddenly see the big picture, like puzzle pieces dropping into place."

"That is a seer, Sarah. There are different types of seers, but a truth seer, is rare. I've only known one in my lifetime," he said, his words quiet and measured. Taken aback by the now steely look in his eyes, Sarah caught herself flinching away from him, as if waiting to be struck. "Who knows about your 'skill', Sarah?"

Sarah shook her head slowly, puzzling over his words. "I've never told anyone about it, until now. I suppose Zora and Vanya may suspect, since they have seen the process I use for mentally working through cases. But, we protect each other, we are kindred."

Jareth nodded, weighing her words before speaking, "Tell no one else, Sarah. Truth seers are rare in our world for a reason. Those who can see the truth that others wish to hide, are a threat. Trust no one."

Sarah's eyebrows knitted as she glared at him, her heart thudding in her chest. "What about you? Shall I trust you?"

Bristling at her words, Jareth's pale eyes narrowed upon her face.. Deep down it irked him that she would question whether he could be trusted, yet he was unsure why that should bother him so.  _The last time we parted she was convinced I had stolen her brother. This morning I tried to beguile her. What have I done to give her reason to trust me?_

"I will make you a deal, Sarah - I will give you my trust that you will keep my secret sacred, if you will give me your trust to keep yours." Jareth's eyes flickered darkly, his entire being seeming to pause within stolen moments of time awaiting her response.

"Deal...Now...let's talk about your sister," Sarah said, casually ignoring the oath that had just been made between them. She knew better than to make deals with the Fae, but in this instance, it was the only logical choice. Hopping up from the bed, she began to pace the room, talking more to herself than Jareth. "The sense I get is that Anwyn is being affected in a way that triggers the more base emotions for High Fae…a drug perhaps. Yes, that would do it. But what one? Human or Fae? Vampire for that matter or Nephilim?" she muttered, moving faster in her steps back and forth through the room. Abruptly stopping, she pointed a finger at Jareth, "I know there are Fae drugs that are used during the hedonistic rites. I got dosed by a partner during the Beltane rites last spring - I came to my senses a week later in a dragon's den in the far reaches of Lothian. I know humans are more susceptible to such things, but if you or your sister were to be dosed on them, would the other feel it?"

Jareth frowned, a burst of anger welling in his stomach at the idea that someone would abuse his Champion so, despite the fact that she seems to harbor the perpetrator no ill will. Fighting down the urge to torture her 'partner' until they begged for death, Jareth shook his head. "I don't know. We… to be blunt, Sarah, we have enough innate sexuality and desire that such aids are not needed, even during the most hedonistic of rites. I'm sorry."

Sarah paused, blinking momentarily as if confused, before waving a hand and starting to pace once more. "No...no... that doesn't lead me where I thought, but it gives me information I can use," she replied, then started to ramble once more, her bare feet padding silently on the thick carpet. "If you don't need Fae drugs then it stands to reason that Anwyn wouldn't be the sort to seek out mortal drugs either. And you're the Crown Prince and Princess, who happen to be rare twins, born at the opposite end of the year to another set of rare twins. That plays a part in this somewhere," she muttered, then stopped and pointed at him. "Is there anyone you can think of who would have the power necessary to control you, as you were controlled earlier today?"

Mesmerized by the way her mind was rapidly ticking over facts and ideas, Jareth shook his head, "No. That is part of what makes people fear us. Anwyn and I, as individuals are incredibly powerful for our kind, but together, we are…I...I have no words to adequately express it, Sarah."

"Together you are practically gods," she suggested, then immediately began pacing again. "So if no one is strong enough to control you magically, and there would be no reason for someone to control you magically and enchant you to beguile me - because let's face it, no one but a select few know I am the Finder and the Labyrinth Champion. And even fewer know that you are currently with me," she muttered, waving her hand in the air as if writing. "Then the only way that makes sense, for you to have been affected in such a way, is if Anwyn were being drugged."

Jareth groaned and rubbed a hand over his eyes, trying to sift through the ideas she was riffling through, seemingly at random. Stopping in front of him, she snapped her fingers and grinned triumphantly, "That's it. That is the logical reason. Anwyn is being drugged, against her will most likely."

"So she's been kidnapped?" he demanded, swinging his legs over the side of the bed and launching himself to his feet. "By who? For what purpose?"

The gleeful triumph in Sarah's face faded, as her emerald eyes fell upon his anxious face. She loved solving puzzles, but to see the pain in his eyes knowing that she did not have an answer, made her heart ache for him.

"Well... I...um...I haven't worked that bit out yet," she muttered, hating the desolate look upon his face. "I'm sorry, Jareth. I may be a 'seer' as you put it, but the pieces don't fall into place all at once. Sometimes I have to 'worry' them a bit first." Seeing the pain flickering in his eyes, Sarah reached for his hand and gave it a gentle squeeze, as she sat on the bed, guiding him down next to her. "I'll figure it out, Jareth… as fast as I can. And we'll get her back. Just...trust me. It will take a little bit more time, but I promise. I'll find her."

**~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~**

Humming quietly, Sarah pinched a bit of ham and offered it to the small ice-fire dragon curled in her lap. Oona meeped happily, kneading Sarah's thigh with her tiny claws, as her tail twitched and flicked back and forth along the edge of the dining table. Squeaking, Oona flicked the ham into her mouth with her forked tongue and burbled, her back curling with dancing blue flames of contentment.

"Who's my good girl?" Sarah cooed softly, while Oona nuzzled her hand searching for another bite.

Sarah smiled feeling the blue flames lick at her hand, then pulled her hand along Oona's back, watching the way the blue wisps of flame curled around her fingers, a cool caress that tickled faintly. With the small elemental dragon in her lap, Sarah could almost imagine herself back in her favourite hidden garden in the High King's Castle at T'Chara. She had spent many happy hours in that garden with Oona during her training with The Guardians. Despite the bruises and harsh training routines, at the moment she would almost rather be back in T'Chara than where she was - listening to immortals having a shouting match in her dining room.

 _At least Toby isn't home for this delightful 'family' dinner_.

"Stop being stubborn, Jareth!" Zora snapped, slamming her hand on the table. A sickening crack echoed in the room as the wood splintered, but did nothing to cool the vampire queen's irritation.

At the opposite end of the table, Jareth lounged in the dining chair, his arm propped on one arm of the chair, while a leg was casually sprawled over the other. At first glance, he looked like any other mortal, dressed in faded jeans and a simple black sweater, his sandy hair darker than the cornsilk she remembered, as it fell over his forehead and around his face. It wasn't until she saw the way his eyes glimmered darkly in his anger that his true nature could be seen - this was no mere mortal, this was a king with powers far beyond that which anyone, Above or Below could truly comprehend. Peering up at him, Sarah wondered how he could make any chair look like a throne, just by the mere fact that he was sitting in it.

"Just tell us what is going on and let us help, Jaren!" roared Vanya.

Glancing up, Sarah flinched inwardly seeing the impulsive vampire rush Jareth.  _This won't end well_.

With a casual flick of his hand, Jareth sent a black crystal flying at Vanya, catching him in the chest and making the vampire howl in pain, leaping back, whilen enchanted fire enveloped him. Growling low in her throat, Sarah felt her own fingers twitch, longing to put out the flames, even as Vanya used his own power to douse them.

Rescuing her fork from the inquisitive claws of the dragon, Sarah stabbed a bite of potato with more force than was necessary. For the last hour the three of them had been going at it, with Vanya and Zora alternating between pleading and demanding that Jareth tell them what was going on, while Jareth told them in increasingly blunt terms, to mind their own business.

"That is just a warning, vampire. Never forget who you are addressing... _boy_ ," Jareth hissed, his words cold as his eyes glinted black. Sarah felt her stomach flutter at the tone of his voice and the weight that his words carried, vividly remembering her dream from the night before. "My business with the Finder is my own, and I'll thank you two blood suckers to stay out of it."

Zora thumped her head on the back of her chair, her own power humming around her in a red haze the more frustrated she became. "Damnit Jareth, be reasonable. We only want to help."

With an aristocratic incline of his head, Jareth acknowledged the vampire queen's words, his demeanor still icy, "I appreciate your desire to assist. But at this time, I do not wish to accept. So I suggest you and your clan stay out of it. Do not push me on this, Yannesh Vampyre."

Singed but undeterred by the fairie fire crystal, Vanya snarled, "You are a prick of the first order, Jaren. We are kindred, let us help."

"Mind your tone, boy… I have no qualms about putting you back in your place, even with the ladies present!" Jareth snapped sharply.

"Oh yes, the great Crown Prince, throwing his weight around," sulked Vanya.

Shaking her head slightly, Sarah plucked a pomegranate from the bowl in front of her. Turning it in her hand, she breathed in the crisp, sweet scent, before plucking the stilleto from where it was secreted in the twisted braids atop her head. With a simple flick of her wrist she sliced through the skin with a slick, crunching sound. Humming softly she focused on the fruit, although she was keenly aware when the first immortal noticed what she was doing. Deftly twisting the fruit to reveal the succulent pips within, Sarah brought the knife to her lips, curling her tongue gently around the blade to taste the sweet juices - as expected, that caught Jareth's attention, the darkness in his eyes taking on a hungry quality. Laying the blade aside, Sarah scooped several pips from the fruit and sucked them in her mouth, her lips quirking into a sly smile at the way Jareth shifted in his chair. Even from her vantage point at the opposite end of the table, she could see the very physical effect her actions were having upon him, even as he casually draped his hand between his parted thighs.

Zora was the next to notice, her violet eyes riveted by the sight of Sarah sucking on her own fingers. Knowing the vampire queen was watching, Sarah parted her lips, giving them a peek of her tongue wrapping between her fingers. It wasn't until she lifted the fruit to her lips and used her tongue to pull pips from the center, that Vanya noticed. Eyes glued to her lips as she licked the sticky juice from around them, Vanya finally sat in his chair.

Without looking up, she licked the sweet red juice from her fingers, then purred, "Are you three done arguing?"

"We only want to help," grumbled Zora, slouching into her chair and glaring at the way Jareth's eyes were glued to Sarah's sticky red lips. "Anwyn is our friend."

Ignoring them, Sarah set the pomegranate on her plate and looked up at the three immortals now watching her. Her tongue flicked out to run along her lower lip, sucking in the last of the juice, before she spoke.

"I understand that, but the last time you two inserted yourselves into my investigation without waiting for an invitation, I nearly ended up a child bride to King Allinz. So, while I understand your motives are as pure as they can be for vampires, Jareth does not wish to divulge the nature of his dealings with the Finder, and I will respect his wishes - as should you. I'm mortal, but you're of the Nether, so he is still your Crown Prince and outranks both of you," she replied, her words quiet and calm. Petting the lazy flames that flowed over Oona's back, Sarah arched an eyebrow as she gave Vanya and Zora a stern look. "I realize  _he_  may not want to point out the obvious and pull rank since you all are so close, but I have no qualms about doing so. Respect his wishes, but know that if I feel there is a part in this that would be best filled by the clan, then you will be the first people I turn to."

"But…" Vanya began, only to fall silent when Jareth growled low in his chest.

"No buts, from any of you," Sarah continued with a slight shake of her head.

"And if he tries to beguile you again?" Zora countered, her red eyes narrowing upon Jareth.

Sarah sighed, as Jareth and Zora glared at each other, an immortal test of wills that neither would win without bloodshed - of that Sarah was sure.  _Zora hasn't been this possessive since I was still in training. I wonder why Jareth's attentions irritate her so badly. Immortals and their insatiable sexuality...it would be ridiculous if it weren't so easy to exploit._

Picking up the pomegranate, she drew their attention back to her, chuckling inwardly at their fondness for the sensual fruit, and the meanings it held within the Nether. The first time she had been offered a pomegranate in the Volyenko Court, Sarah had innocently gone to accept when Zora swooped in, threatening to kill the one who had offered it. It was then that she found out that pomegranates were more than a simple fruit in the Nether. If one were offered a pomegranate and accepted, they would be bound to the one who offered for a year and a day… for each pip consumed. To share a pomegranate had different implications, indicating a willingness to be bound to each other. In some courts pomegranates were considered slave fruit and to eat one would be considered a legally binding contract to remain until the tree from which the fruit was taken had died - which was why special pomegranate groves were housed within the seraglio courtyards in those areas.

Single women were generally advised never to eat a pomegranate in front of others, unless they were open to being intimate with them - which is why it was so perfect to use as means of drawing the attention of the immortals now staring at her.

In the Nether, meaning was everything.

"If he should try to beguile me again, I will deal with it in blood. I believe I understand why it happens, so the sooner I help him with his… problem...the sooner that danger will cease to exist." Standing up, Sarah set Oona on her chair, petting the sleeping dragon for a moment before facing the three immortals, who had not dared look away. Picking up a last pip, she popped it into her mouth and sucked upon her fingertip, before addressing Vanya and Zora. "Quite frankly, your insistence upon being part of this is slowing down my investigation. As this is your property and we are kindred, I can't banish you from the apartment, but that doesn't mean I have to stay here and put up with it," she said, then turned and walked toward the door, the leather of her pants creaking softly in the silence of the room. Pausing in the doorway, she arched an eyebrow, her expression serious as she looked expectantly at Jareth, "Be at the door in five minutes, Goblin King. We've got work to do."

Leaving the three immortals in stunned silence, Sarah shut the door of the dining room, breaking the spell the sight of Sarah eating the fruit had cast upon them.

Jareth smiled as he rose, openly adjusting the firm length of his cock, encased within the tight denim of his trousers. "She has grown into quite a commanding woman," he mused, more to himself than to Vanya and Zora.

Plucking a blood ruby blade from the inner recess of her coat, Zora inspected the blade, her eyes glittering red as she glared at Jareth over the wickedly serrated edge. "Hurt her and I will kill you, Jareth - Crown Prince or not."

"I have no intention of hurting her," the Goblin King replied, snapping his fingers. Around his shoulders, a heavy leather riding coat appeared, the hem licking around the heels of his motorcycle boots, as he stood. "This is business."

"See that it stays that way, Jaren," Vanya hissed, feeling his own body respond to the dark presence that was the Goblin King.

As he walked toward the door, the Goblin King's rumbling laugh filled the room, while his words echoed softly, as if he had whispered in their ears."Know this, she may be kindred and you may both have had her, but if she comes to me willingly, she will be mine...forever. Unlike vampires, I don't share."

* * *

 **AUTHOR'S NOTE** : As always...please review :)


	6. Wire in the Blood

Jareth leaned against the side of the elevator watching Sarah curiously. The brunette settled in the corner of the mirrored box, deftly buttoning the heavy black wool of her pea coat, then pulled fine leather gloves onto her hands. Her eyes which had flashed such a bright shade of emerald in the dining room, faded to a dull hazel, as she tucked a plaid scarf around her neck, fastening the neck of the coat high enough to hold the scarf in place.

"It's cold out. You'll want a hat, scarf and some gloves," she muttered, her tone business-like and brusque. "I know High Fae can't catch human colds, but you can catch a nasty chill if you aren't prepared for it and New York at night in the late fall… it gets damn cold."

Tucking her hands in her pockets, Sarah eyed the spiderweb of cracks in the mirror behind Jareth's head, cringing inwardly at the force she must have used on him to cause that. She didn't usually manhandle clients, but something about Jareth just rubbed her the wrong way. Seeing him shift, her eyes washed over him. ' _Damn him, but he even makes dull mortal clothing look good,'_ she mused. Pretending to check her watch, Sarah watched Jareth pull an ice blue scarf from the pocket of his black leather duster and wrap it around his neck, his slender fingers working the buttons on the jacket until the scarf was secured.

_On anyone else the mix of cashmere and leather would seem odd. Leave it to the Goblin King to be able to carry it off._

The elevator dinged cheerfully as they reached the lobby, the doors sliding open before them. Stepping aside quickly, Sarah narrowly avoided the portly lupine who lived on the 12th floor.

"Evening Saralynne. It's bitter out tonight. Be sure to bundle up," he growled, giving her a smile that showed a bit more fang than any mortal should be comfortable with - but Sarah was not 'any mortal'.

"Will do, Gerome. Give Gina my love," Sarah nodded, stepping out of the elevator, with Jareth trailing behind her.

Sarah gave Ian a brief wave as she walked past, chuckling inwardly at the low rumbling growl that emanated from Jareth at seeing the daywalker desk guard. Heading out the front door, she stepped onto the sidewalk, shivering slightly at the bitter wind that swirled around her before deciding to cut straight through her wool coat. Without a word to Jareth she flipped her collar higher against her face and turned down the street, swiftly blending into the New Yorkers who bustled up and down the street.

Frowning, Jareth jogged several steps to catch up to the brooding brunette. If anyone should know better than to judge someone on first impressions, it should be the Goblin King, as he himself was often misjudged based upon only one of his many roles within the Nether - yet here he was, feeling the sting of having misjudged Sarah when they first met. She had been a horribly spoiled child and he was sure that would be all she would ever be. The fact that he had been so wrong galled him considerably.

Around them the street lights began to flicker, warming up for the evening, the blue-grey of the dusky sky rapidly darkening to twilight. The crisp early winter wind stung his nostrils and lungs, even as he inhaled the heady scents of cooking food - spicy tomatoes, curries of all kinds and something vaguely sweet which actually made his stomach growl faintly.

Walking alongside Sarah, Jareth glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, noting the firm set of her jaw and the thoughtful look upon her face. The moment they set foot out of the apartment, she became the Finder - and she had a job to do.

"Is it wise to begin your investigation at night?" he asked, his voice low enough that the mortals around them would not hear, although to Sarah it sounded as if he had spoken next to her ear.

Snorting quietly, Sarah pulled her plaid scarf up further around her ears and tucked it deeper into the collar of her jacket. "If you're worried about needing to protect me, Goblin King...don't be. I'm a trained assassin with The Guardians, and a blood member of the Black Gypsies. I hold patents of command from six Netherworld kingdoms. And I have over 8 different weapons scattered over my body, not including my own magic. On my own, I could render just about anything incapacitated if not a char mark on the pavement. And if that is not enough, I am traveling in the company of one of the most powerful beings that exist in this plane… and any other for that matter. I think I'm safe enough. Don't you?" she asked, pulling her favourite red knitted slouch hat from her pocket and tugging it onto her head.

Jareth's pale eyes washed over her thoughtfully, the brief glimmer of uncertainty that flickered within them an easily missed sign of his surprise - easily missed if one wasn't a Guardian.

Arching an eyebrow at him, Sarah smiled, amused at seeing even a hint of surprise in the mighty Goblin King. Jareth didn't reply, his shoulders tight as he shoved his gloved hands deep into the pockets of his coat, the icy fall wind whipping around him, blowing the fine strands of blonde wildly around his head. Without thinking, Sarah pulled a glowing golden pouch from her pocket and tucked it into his own, smiling at the questioning look he gave her.

"Human magic - it's just a thermal pocket warmer. It's cold and using Fae magic would make us easier to track and I would prefer to avoid being noticed. It's dicy enough going out with the Crown Prince in the first place," she explained, with a smile. Stopping by the gaudy yellow coffee cart on the corner, Sarah nodded at the dark-haired man behind the cart, waving two fingers at him. "Two espressos, Manny. Better make them doubles."

The dark haired man in the puffy red coat began to prime the espresso machine, steam hissing through the cranky old pipes. Seeing no threat from the street-corner barista, Jareth turned his attention back to the green-eyed enigma next to him. When he first met her, he would never have dreamed that she would become the formidable woman she had become.  _If she had taken her dreams, she would be a spoiled actress by now….although, I think this Sarah suits her far better._

"A Guardian  _and_  a black gypsy? You are either a masochist of the first order or a sadist, Sarah."

"Bit of both depending on the situation," she shrugged, passing the vendor a five dollar bill and taking the cups of coffee. Pausing at the end of the cart she ripped open ten packages of sugar and dumped them into one of the cups, stirring it briskly before handing it to Jareth. "And don't bother asking about what situations, that is none of your business, Goblin King."

"Fine. I won't," he chuckled, cupping the flimsy cardboard cup in his gloved hands, the heat of the liquid sinking into his fingers and warming them. "How did you know I like sugared coffee?"

"You're Fae. I have yet to meet one who didn't have a hard core sweet tooth," she replied matter-of-factly, as she raised the second cup to her lips and tested the temperature, before taking a sip. A deep groan of pleasure rumbled in her chest. "Hmm… perfect. If it were any stronger it would strip paint off walls."

Jareth watched her drink the bitter brew straight and cringed, wrinkling up his nose. "How can you drink coffee without sugar or at least milk?"

"Masochist," she shrugged, taking a large gulp and purring happily, the sound eliciting a visceral response from certain parts of Jareth's anatomy.

Around them the denizens of Manhattan trudged into the twilight, their heads down and bodies closed off to all that was around them. Scattered amongst the mortals were various supernatural and immortal beings from the Nether, but they went unnoticed by the oblivious mortals who were caught up in the 'make no eye contact' rule of New York living. Jareth wondered at the insular way they went about their lives. A golem could come marching up the street and it would be unlikely that any of them would notice, or react if they did.

_I imagine it is safer to not see what is really around them, as to admit to seeing the fantastic would render their very understanding of existence in question._

Inhaling the dark brew, Jareth took a sip, sighing as the sickly sweet overtones hit his tongue. He followed Sarah as she started off down the street, still cradling the cup in his hands. "So...8 weapons?"

"Over 8. And they are secreted in places you wouldn't believe, Goblin King," Sarah laughed, pausing at the corner for a street light.

The press of mortals around them forced him closer to her, her shoulder brushing against his chest. Jostled by the crowd, Sarah shifted in front of Jareth, only to step back suddenly as a car careened around the corner, her back pressing tight against Jareth's chest.

"Asshole!" she snapped, managing to keep hold of her coffee, her burgundy-black lips twisting into a scowl as she shouted a few more epithets at the retreating tail lights of the car. A moment later her breath hitched in her throat at the feel of heated breath teasing along her ear, the scent of pine and rain swirling around her, blocking out the fetid stench of diesel fumes and trash that hung over the city like a pall.

"I think I should quite like to see just where you hide such significant weaponry, Precious."

"Keep dreaming, Goblin King," she laughed with a knowing smirk. Giving him a gentle nudge with her elbow, she started across the street. "And don't call me that. I'm not your Precious… or anything else."

Grinning, he fell into step beside her, sipping his coffee. "And how do your lovers usually take the fact that you are so heavily armed."

Sarah chuckled and shrugged, "Those that know me well enough to be a regular bed partner tend to like a bit of pain with their pleasure so they don't mind. Casual partners well… they are usually a bit intimidated, which suits me just fine. They are less of a threat that way."

"Clever…I wouldn't have pegged you as a dominant when we first met."

"I was fifteen, Jareth. I wasn't anything yet," she laughed, sipping the scalding liquid.

Taking another sip, she let a soft moan escape her as it burned a path down her throat, the sound making Jareth's groin tighten further. When the light upon the corner changed, he surreptitiously adjusted himself.

"Submissive..." he asserted, remembering the way she had cowered before him in their first encounters.

Sarah snorted and rolled her eyes. "Fifteen! And innocent."

"If you were Zora's paramour, innocence is surely no longer something that troubles you," he suggested with a sultry smirk.

"Jareth! I am not going to have this discussion with you," Sarah huffed, her firm words belied by the laughter still in her voice. "You are a client. I don't discuss my sex life with clients."

Weaving easily through the crowds that clogged the sidewalks of the city, Sarah continued on in silence, leaving Jareth to trail alongside her, dodging the odd human who seemed oblivious to his presence and tried to walk through him rather than around him.

"So what shall we discuss then?" he asked as they huddled together with the masses, waiting to cross at the next intersection.

"Well, you should probably tell me where Anwyn was living. That's as good a place to start as any," she replied, pulling two subway passes from her pocket. Turning down the stairs to the Canal Street station, she handed him one of the cards over her shoulder, not bothering to look at him. "Have you ridden the subway before?"

Taking the card, Jareth peered at it curiously, then gave a derisive laugh. "I could have taken us straight to her flat, Sarah."

"Sure… and the whacking great magical signature a member of the royal family would leave wouldn't have bounty hunters on our asses within moments of arriving," she laughed, shaking her head. "Fuck Jareth!. For someone with godlike magical powers, you don't have much street sense, Goblin King. You just keep your powers dampened unless we're about to die, then by all means… let them loose. Other than that, I don't want to feel so much as a charge of static electricity from you, buddy!"

Bristling at the way she scolded him, Jareth growled, opening his mouth to protest, when he felt himself pinned against her in a jam of people at the bottom of the stairs.

Sarah tried to ignore the feel of Jareth's body pressed tightly against her, his hand firm on her shoulder so as not to lose her in the crowd. "Let me put it this way, Jareth… if Anwyn has been abducted against her will, whoever did it is either monumentally stupid and doesn't know who they have, or they are smart enough and dangerous enough to incapacitate a member of the royal family. Either way, I'd prefer not to leave them a trail of magic to follow. And I'm pretty sure my High Council ban would become a death sentence if I allowed anything to happen to you too."

Before he could respond the crowd began to move again. "Just do what I do and stay close, we're in the middle of Friday night rush hour," she shouted over her shoulder.

Jareth watched curiously as she fed the small card into a slot in the gate that barred their way. A moment later a light turned green and she pushed through the metal turnstile, deftly plucking the card from the slot it shot out of at the other end. Frowning, Jareth tried to feed the card in, only to have it rejected.

"Hurry it up!" shouted someone behind.

"Fucking tourist!"

"Get a move on moron!"

"Look for the arrow!" Sarah shouted, gesturing at the card. "Feed it in arrow first!"

Glancing at the card, he flipped it around and tried again. The moment the gate beeped and the light turned green, he pushed through, relieved to be away from the angry mob that seemed to be taking shape behind him.

"Hey, don't forget the damn card!" Sarah snapped, grabbing the card from the exit slot and tucking them both back in her pocket. In the next instant she grabbed his arm and started guiding him toward an escalator, leading deeper into the tunnels that ran like rats nests under the city. "So where are we heading?"

"Harcourt Park," Jareth growled, unused to being manhandled in such a way.

Shaking her head as she pulled him along, Sarah grumbled, "I hope you can get some Aboveground cash without resorting to magic, because at this rate we're going to have to cab it everywhere."

Unable to get a word in as she wove through the crowd of subway passengers, Jareth felt his jaw tighten. He disliked the subway on principle...it was crowded, hot, stunk of piss and stale garbage and was generally as uncivilized a way to travel as he could imagine; but to be herded through it like a recalcitrant school-boy by Sarah Williams, well it was just too much.

"Unhand me, woman!" he hissed when she finally stopped moving.

Surprised, Sarah glanced up only to be faced with an irate High Fae who was starting to buzz with magic. "Damnit Jareth, I was only trying to make sure I didn't lose you in that mess of people. Calm the fuck down," she growled back, a faint shiver running down her back at the way his pale eyes glittered deep blue in his anger. Around them the air began to buzz, like a swarm of bees grouping to attack.  _Fuck...fuck fuck! Gotta snap him out of this before we're noticed._

Reaching up, Sarah threaded her gloved fingers along the side of his head, then before she could hesitate and consider all of the many 'bad things' that could happen as a result of what she was about to do, she swiftly pulled his head toward hers and kissed him. The moment her lips touched his, a jolt of electricity shuddered through them both, their shared grunt of pain swallowed in the heated depths of the kiss. Sarah groaned, feeling him respond instantly, his lips parting against hers, their tongues teasing and dancing easily along each other. Jareth's arm snaked around her, pinning her tight to his body, as his own hand came up, twisting into the hair at the back of her head to arch her neck, deepening the kiss with a low hiss of pleasure, that made Sarah's stomach flutter.

The moment she felt his magic die away, Sarah stepped back, only to be stopped by the steely arm, holding firmly around her back. Blushing slightly, Sarah felt her core throb at the hungry look Jareth gave her, his pupils dilated so far his eyes were nearly black.

"You can let go of me now, Jareth," she mumbled, as his arm pulled her tighter, giving her a feel of just how much of a rise she had gotten from him.  _Good Gods… he's huge. It's a wonder he doesn't trip over that thing!_

"I thought you don't fuck clients?" he murmured, his voice low and rough, the sound seeming to tease inside her skull, making her stomach quiver.

Sarah grumbled, pushing against his chest until he released her. Straightening her hat she glanced down, finally noticing the remains of their coffee, now spilled across the platform. "That wasn't foreplay, Goblin King. That was an act of self-preservation. You were letting your magic get the better of you and we  _really_  can't afford to be tracked."

"Perhaps if you'd put your bitch boots away and stop bossing me about like a child," he hissed, shoving his hands into the pockets of his coat, the petulant frown doing little to help his case.

"Well if you'd stop acting like a spoiled child and actually be… I don't know… helpful? Or normal?"

"I was attempting to be 'normal', woman! Small talk. Isn't that what you humans do?" he snapped irritably, his pale eyes darkening once more as his lips pursed in a tight line.

"Small talk yes. But that does  _not_  include grilling me about my sex life or lack of one!"

"Well if this is the way you treat people, it's no wonder you aren't getting laid more often!" Jareth snarled.

Groaning, Sarah heard the faint buzzing begin again, as the platform began to vibrate with the arriving train.  _I'm a fool. The moment I laid eyes on him I should've told him to go find someone else to help him._ Cursing herself, Sarah fisted both hands into the collar of his coat and jerked him forward, the force of it making him stumble against her, his arms automatically encircling her to stay upright.

Jareth grunted in surprise when she kissed him again, then shuddered at the lance of magic that shot down his spine in response to the feel of her lips against his. Feeling her tongue push past his lips, licking along the sensitive spot inside his lip, he hissed, his arms tightening around her, as his cock throbbed against her hip. Then just as suddenly as she kissed him, Sarah pulled away, and he found himself being maneuvered onto the subway train, only moments before the doors slid shut. The train shuddered violently as it gathered speed and roared away from the platform.

Back in 'business-mode', Sarah's eyes darted through the car of the subway, quickly surveying the passengers and exits. _Four old ladies...they're no threat, but they have knitting needles that would be useful in a pinch. Two couples necking. Three punks… no real threat there. Two potential gang-bangers...no threat to us, but they are eyeballing the group of school girls. 11 commuters. 1 blind guy with a service dog. And three high school boys smoking a joint and thinking no one will notice._

Frowning, Sarah made her way through the train and grabbed a hanging loop of plasticized canvas hanging from the ceiling of the car, positioning herself between the girls and the dodgy looking guys. Behind her, Jareth followed along, snarling as the train lurched, making him lose his footing for a fraction of a second. Grabbing the pole over her hand, he glowered at her, his irritation etched in the lines that creased his forehead.

"There were empty seats at the other end of the car, Sarah. Why must we stand on this careening rust bucket and risk injury?" he grumbled.

Sarah wrapped her arm around his back, ensuring that they went unnoticed by the others - just another couple cuddling on a busy train. Nuzzling his ear, she felt him shiver in surprise, then she hissed, "Two reasons… first, sitting in any of the seats means we can't escape quickly if we need to. Second, these girls were being sized up as prey. You and I are running interference so they can sneak off at the next stop. Whatever you do, keep the two guys with ball caps from getting off this train. I don't care what you do, so long as you don't use magic."

Arching an aristocratic eyebrow, Jareth peered over the top of Sarah's head, taking in the way the youths in question were leering at the girls. Jareth glanced at the girls to his right and felt his blood burn at their distress.

"They can't be more than 12 human years...younger than you were when we met and far less capable to tackle predators," he muttered in Sarah's ear.

"Exactly…" Sarah , her lips brushing his ear as the train jerked under them. "Get ready, the next station is approaching. Don't let the guys get off."

The force of the train stopping rocked Sarah's body against Jareth's causing an immediate reaction. On their right, the girls stood, frantically grabbing their things and moving toward the doors. Seeing the boys in their red ball caps and sloppy red hoodies start to follow the girls, Jareth caught Sarah's glittering eyes.  _She said do anything except use magic._

Sliding his thigh between Sarah's, Jareth hooked his foot behind hers to overbalance her and groaned as he kissed her. Moaning loudly, Sarah threw her arms around Jareth's neck, returning the kiss with a passion he did not expect. Beneath them the train's brakes squealed and howled, slowing down the train, while passengers jostled each other to move closer to the doors. The boys moved forward, just as the train lurched to a halt, sending Sarah and Jareth stumbling into them.

"Hey! Watch it!" snarled one of the boys, his eyes trained on the girls as they rushed to get off the train.

"Move it! You're in our way!" shouted the other boy, trying to dodge around Sarah and Jareth.

Disentangling themselves, Sarah and Jareth stumbled and fell against the boys, knocking them into the opposite door, even as they gave their apologies and tried to move.

"Oh my...I'm so sorry," Jareth said, brushing his jacket off and grabbing for Sarah when she tripped over one of the youth's feet, pushing them further away from the open door.

Before they could right themselves fully, a loud dinging sound rang out through the carriage and the doors hissed shut. Staggering to their feet, Sarah and Jareth smiled apologetically at the boys and made their way arm-in-arm to the other end of the train car. With a quiet grin, Sarah leaned against the wall at the end of the carriage, her eyes narrowing as she surveyed the newcomers on the train.

"Thanks for helping with that," she murmured quietly.

Shoulder to shoulder, the two of them rode in silence for the next four stops, each lost in their own world. At one station, Jareth started in surprise, when a flash of white-blonde hair moved onto the train, his heart racing, until the woman turned around. Sighing, he leaned back once more, hating the brief surge of hope, and the desolate gloom that settled over him when it turned out not to be his beloved sister. The gentle touch of Sarah's hand on his arm drew him from his thoughts, her verdant eyes soft.

"You okay, Jareth?" she asked quietly, all irritation that she had shown earlier, now gone.

"Sorry, Precious. Just...thinking," he sighed, feeling his emotions closing off deep within him. He could not share his fears with her. Trust her though he must, his fears were his own. To speak them would be to give them life and that was one thing he would not do.

"Well, the next stop is ours. Where are we going in Harcourt?"

"Grosvenor Apartments on K Street. Apartment 3G," he recited, the cadence speaking of phrases hastily memorized.

Nodding, Sarah moved toward the door, feeling the heat of Jareth's body brushing her shoulder. Despite how infuriating he could be, there was something comforting about having him at her back, something solid and sure. The moment the doors opened the two of them stepped out and into the rushing throng at the station… just two more New Yorkers going about their nondescript lives.

Caught in the rush of commuters, Sarah and Jareth were carried along to the surface street. Unlike the streets in Manhattan where Sarah lived, the streets around Harcourt Park were filled with a grotesque mix of sights and sounds. Despite the stench that surrounded them, Sarah pushed on down the street, with Jareth at her side. She could see the faint look of distain he gave the working poor as they rushed to their second or third jobs. In the doorways, vagrants huddled, seeking any respite from the icy wind that ripped and roared through the streets.

"It's a bit dicey of a neighborhood to let a Nether Crown Princess settle down in," she muttered as they waited for the crosswalk light to change. "Should I bother asking what she was doing here?"

Sighing, Jareth shoved his hands deep into his pockets, fighting against the despondence that rose within him every time he thought of his sister and what harm might have befallen her. "She came to study human sociology."

"You're kidding me?" Sarah asked, shaking her head. "Why would she do that when she could be home, a Queen in her own right?"

"Like me, she has dealings with mortals and something of an affinity for them. She wanted to learn more, so she came here to study at NYU. I did the same a number of years ago. I suppose she was following in my footsteps and for that I will always despise myself," he muttered, his shoulders slumping as he walked along beside Sarah. "She was doing quite well, before she made the fatal error…"

"What was that?"

"She fell in love…."

Glancing at him, she saw the flash of pain in his face before it disappeared, to be replaced with cold neutrality. "With a mortal?"

"Yes. Although she would hardly be the first in our family to do so," he sighed, following Sarah as she turned down a side street. "Loving a mortal is not a problem, not like you might think at any rate. The problem was that she wanted to stay here longer. Our parents agreed to it, provided she give up her research and move somewhere safer. I was due to see to her arrangements next week...but… well… she missed her last two check-ins with Father. I've scryed for her. No one but myself has ever been able to scry for her, even when she didn't want to be found I could always find her - and now I can't, Sarah. She is gone, yet I can still feel her heartbeat in time with mine, growing fainter all the time."

Reaching over, Sarah threaded her hand in his within the cavernous pocket of his coat, ignoring the way he flinched at her touch, before grasping her fingers tightly in his own.

"We'll find her, Jareth."

**~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~**

Grosvenor Apartments…. It sounded like it should be a posh condo complex in Manhattan, but the reality was anything but. The cold grey edifice towered over the street, blending into the dull grey of the other buildings and the sky. A blinking neon green sign hung on the corner of the building flashing 'Osvenr Artments' into the night, a relic from more prosperous days.

"Damn," Sarah whistled, shaking her head. "When we find her, she can come live with me before coming back to this place. Seriously… what was she thinking living in a dive like this?"

"I tried to tell her but, well… even Fae siblings refuse to listen to each other."

The lobby of the building was no better than the outside, fading striped wall-paper covered the walls, worn bare in some places, hanging in torn strips in others. Green vinyl couches dotted the 'lounge' area, many of which bore signs of hard use and little upkeep, the vinyl cracked with wear and sporting holes through which crumbling yellow foam could be seen. In a corner sat a dejected vintage cigarette machine. Here and there sat elderly tenants, sleeping on the uncomfortable sofas or playing cards on the chipped and cracked coffee tables that were strewn around the lobby with no sense of position.

Releasing Jareth's hand, Sarah pulled her gloves from her hands and shoved them into her pockets, as the ancient caged elevator rumbled and squeaked it's way to a stop. The grating sound of the cage door being pushed open would have been enough to wake the dead, but did little to wake the nearly dead souls sleeping in the shabby lobby.

"I don't know about you, but I think we'd be safer taking the stairs than risking a ride in that death trap," she muttered, jerking the door of the stairwell open.

"For once I whole-heartedly agree with you, Sarah."

Trudging up the steps, Sarah unbuttoned her coat and tied her scarf around her throat. "Okay, when we arrive, stay outside and don't move. Don't speak. And hey, if you could manage not to breathe for a few minutes that would be good too," she said, turning at the landing and continuing up to the second floor. "I need silence for my first pass inspection of the flat, that's when most of the basic information becomes clear and I don't want to miss anything. If I tell you to do something, I want you to do it immediately and not take the time to argue with me. There's no telling what we'll find once we get inside, so I need you to trust me and cooperate." Pausing at the door to the third floor, she pinned Jareth with a stern glare. "If you get in my way, I'll send you back to my place and you can just stay there until I find your sister. So if you want to stay involved in this, do as you're told and don't make things difficult. Got it, Goblin King."

The angry scowl that twisted Jareth's lips said all she needed to hear.

"You don't have to like it, Jareth… so long as you do it. Now come on. Stay close, but if anything happens, stay out of my way and only use your own magic if it's a matter of life or death," she instructed him, before pulling open the door.

Jareth cringed as he stepped into the hall, his foot stepping on a mushy spot in the carpet. "I wouldn't even let goblins live here," he muttered, wrinkling his nose as the smell of stale urine assaulted them.

Ignoring him, Sarah paused outside 'apartment' 3G, noting that to call anything in this building an apartment was a serious delusion of grandeur. Sarah glanced quickly up and down the hall, then drew her finger down the door, a faint glimmer of blue following the movement.

Arching an eyebrow, Jareth hurrumphed, "What about your no magic rule?"

"Doesn't apply to me…" Sarah replied as the latch on the door gave a muted click.

"That's not fair…" he grumbled with a frown.

Blinking in stunned amazement, Sarah gave him an incredulous look. " _Tell me_  you did  _NOT_  just say that."

For the first time since they left the train station, Jareth smirked, his expression expectant.

Groaning, Sarah shook her head and grasped the handle of the door. "Fine...fine...I'll go by your script….I wonder what your basis of comparison is… There. But I'm not going to pretend I'm going to kiss you then send the cleaners after you. A girl has to have standards."

"You thought I was going to kiss you? Or was that what you hoped?" he asked, genuinely seeming surprised.

"Shut it, Goblin King...I've got a room to process and not much time to do it. I want to get in and get out. I feel like I'll catch something if we stay too long in this pig sty of a half-way house."

Sarah slowly turned the doorknob, her senses tingling as the door pushed open, revealing a darkened one room studio. The murphy bed was neatly made, covered in the threadbare sheets and flimsy blanket that appeared to be 'hotel issue' - in the 1920s perhaps. There was a tiny desk with a three-legged chair, by the window. On a vintage tv stand sat a tiny 12 inch black and white TV, complete with rabbit-ear antenna, sporting tips wrapped in aluminum foil. Slowly Sarah stepped into the room, her eyes scanning for any hint of something amiss. Running her fingers over the calendar on the desk, she frowned.

_It's almost too clean, if that can even be said about this place. No sign of a struggle...whatever happened to her, it didn't happen here._

Moving toward the small bathroom, Sarah peered inside. Just like the bed, the bathroom was neatly ordered. A pink toothbrush lay on a neatly folded hand towel at the side of the basin, and three pill bottles were lined up in a precise row in the open medicine cabinet. Picking up the bottles, Sarah felt a sense of cognitive dissonance. "Antibiotics… made out to your sister. I didn't think mortal medicines could help them. Hell, I didn't think you all caught anything that humans use antibiotics for." Not waiting for a response from Jareth, she picked up the third bottle, a frown turning her mouth downward. "What the hell? Birth control? Does that even work on your kind?"

A warm arm snaked around Sarah's stomach, pulling her back against a firm body. "I don't know… care to find out?" Jareth purred in her ear.

"Jareth! I told you to wait outside," Sarah hissed, then squeaked as his hand swept lower, cupping her through her jeans. "What the fuck?!"

"Hmm… I would like to fuck," he growled in her ear, grinding himself against her ass, the impressive bulge she had felt earlier now stirring to full, and distractingly impressive thickness.

"That  _wasn't_  an invitation, Goblin King," Sarah snarled, fumbling in her pocket for the small blood garnet knife. "Buddy, you better let me go… or one of us is going to be limping outta here and let me tell you, it isn't going to be me."

Craning her head around, Sarah groaned seeing Jareth's eyes flicker to pitch black. "Fuck...I do not have time for this shit, Jareth! Snap out of it!"

With a grunt, she slammed her elbow back into his stomach as hard as she could, only to have Jareth twist a hand into her hair and jerk her head back, his teeth grazing her throat with rough kisses. "That. Wasn't. Very. Nice. Sarah!" he hissed. Spinning her as easily as a ragdoll, Jareth pinned both of her wrists behind her and slammed her over the front of the tiny vanity, cracking her forehead against the mirror hard enough to make it splinter.

An angry screech tore through Sarah's throat, as she wrenched a hand free and swiped at the blood on her forehead. Arching her head back she tried to get the blood on his lips, only to see a shadowy figure appear in the mirror behind Jareth.

"Shit! Jareth! Please!...get us out of here...Now!" she shouted, trying frantically to smear the blood on his lips or chin.

Lost to whatever had taken possession of him, Jareth did not respond to her scream, his free hand clawing at the zip of her jeans. Behind him Sarah saw the shadowy figure lift a syringe, then plunge the needle into the side of Jareth's neck.

"JARETH!" she shrieked, as he fell limp, his body pinning her helplessly to the vanity. Seeing the figure pull out another syringe, in the far recesses of her mind, Sarah had a sudden flash of deja vu, as if this were a nightmare she knew. Opening her mouth, she tried to scream, but her voice came out a soundless whisper, just like every time she had seen this nightmare play out. She knew what was coming - the needle.

_I always wake up in time. I always wake up in time!_

Seeing the figure with the needle draw closer, Sarah grunted and pushed at Jareth's body, harsh sobs tearing from her throat, when she tried to scream.

_Wake up Sarah! Wake the fuck up!_

She felt a sharp sting, then Sarah Williams, the Champion of the Labyrinth and the Finder of Lost Things, felt no more.

* * *

As always, please review! :)

 


	7. Secrets Revealed and Kept

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING: Graphic Violence, rough sex and mention of rape.

Cold.

If there was one thing Sarah hated as much, if not more than having her life threatened on a near daily basis by various mythical, legendary and supernatural beings, it was being cold.

Ever since her return from the Labyrinth, cold was one of the things she felt far more than any mortal should. The hottest day of summer would often find her sitting around in a sweatshirt and sweats - not that she had ever been a beach bunny to begin with. In all her travels back and forth through the Nether, no one she asked could explain why she developed such a sensitivity - in fact that last healer she spoke to suggested it was a strange allergy brought about by her time in the Goblin Kingdom, and she wouldn't put it past the Goblin King to have cursed her that way, no matter how many times she had been assured that there were no curses attached to her.

Feeling cold swirling around her body, Sarah's immediate instinct was to pull the covers up around herself and go back to sleep in order to rid herself of the dull ache that ran across the top of her head, like a vice trying to pop her eyes from her skull. Luckily her training was strict enough that it was ingrained in every fiber of being, so when she heard strange voices, she froze - and listened.

"Aw come'on man. Can't we play with her a little at least. Darius will never know."

_Shit. It wasn't the nightmare. I wonder if truth seers can see their own truths before they happen?_

Taking a slow breath and feigning sleep, Sarah willed her body to relax as she studied her predicament. She heard one of the men move nearby, then felt a sudden rush of cold air wash over her body, her nipples pulling tight enough to be painful in response. Biting back a groan, she fought to control her breathing, her senses now keenly aware of two things - she was not alone, and more distressing, she was naked. Letting herself go limp, Sarah felt the thing she was laying on, sink a bit. From the feel of it, she was laying on a mattress that had more than passed it's 'use-by' date, the cover coarse duck cloth which barely held back the creaky springs, one of which was currently jabbing into her hip. Focusing on her body, she continued to seek out any odd sensations, noting a heavy weight around her wrists, and throat - cuffs of some kind.

_Damn you, Jareth! When I get my hands on you I'm going to throttle you! I hope you never wanted kids, because your family jewels are gonna be hanging on my mantle for eternity!_

Without warning she felt the mattress jiggle, her eyes nearly flying open at the realization that there was someone on the bed with her. Next to her a body shifted and someone groaned softly. Cringing she cracked an eyelid and groaned inwardly at what she saw - Jareth was laying next to her, chained to the bed and from what little she could see through her slitted eyelashes, he was naked just as she was.

_What in the seven Hells is going on?_

"I dunno Mark… Darius said we weren't supposed to play with them anymore after the blonde chick got hurt. Just collect and deliver," she heard a male voice say nearby, his words carrying a whistling nasal quality, which immediately got on Sarah's nerves.

_Blonde chick...shit. Please don't be talking about Anwyn._

"Dude...look at him! We can let him fuck her. Darius didn't say we couldn't do that. He just said we couldn't screw 'em," said the first man, his voice rough and low.

"Fuck, look'it him," muttered the nasally man with a soft whistle. "He'd tear her up with that thing."

"Aw...come on. You know she's a magical freak. She'll handle it...maybe she'll kill him like the blonde bitch did."

The bed dipped, and Sarah felt a sudden heat at her side, a low feral growl rumbling from Jareth's chest.

"Dude...he's not even fully hard yet," laughed the man. "He'll slaughter her."

A predatory snarl from beside her, made Sarah gasp, her eyes flicking open to see Jareth leaning over her, straining to reach her but being held back by the iron chain around his neck. Along the edge of the heavy iron collar she could see angry red blisters outlining the metal links, as his Fae body reacted to the metal. Sensing her fear, Jareth growled again, his lip curling back to reveal fangs - fangs she was quite sure he did not have when she kissed him earlier. His eyes glittered like obsidian, rimmed with a faint red glow. Unable to help herself, her eyes dropped downward for a moment, before she shuddered. Even half-hard, his cock lay over his thigh, thick and long, unlike anything she'd seen both Above and Below.

_Fuck...with that thing there is no le petit mort! No wonder Zora and Vanya wanted him. Were those ridges? Bloody Hell..._

"Hey...did you dose him again?" asked the smaller of the two men, eyeing Jareth warily, as the Goblin King turned to look at him, then gave a sudden possessive growl.

_Great...now he's showing possession?! Does being claimed by High Fae kindred count if they are out of their fucking mind at the time?!_

"No...I thought you did?"

"No way, man. Darius said only one dose...any more than that and they are hard to control. Shouldn't he still be out? And her for that matter?"

"Fuck, he's gonna tear her apart," groaned the other man, with an obscene amount of glee, rubbing a hand across the front of his jeans as he watched Jareth sniff the air around Sarah. "Unchain his hands, let him at her."

Sarah flinched as Jareth reached for her, wickedly sharp claws now tipping his fingers, a hungry snarl curling his lips. "No! You do that and he'll kill me!" she squeaked, sounding far more panicky than she had intended.

Nodding, the shorter man frowned. "Darius would be pissed...that's how the blonde chick got damaged. He wants them alive."

"Fuck Darius! Why should he and the club members get all the fun, while we're stuck capturing them and keeping them in this shit-stained place until delivery! I wanna see him fuck her, now either unchain him or I will!"

Sarah's eyes flicked around the room, searching frantically for a way out, but being chained to a bed with Jareth acting like a crazed, Alpha cross-breed Vampire/Nephilim something-or-other wasn't going to make escaping easy. Groaning, she felt for the stiletto twisted into the braids atop her head, a spark of relief coursing through her when she moved her head and felt the tip of it jab her lightly behind the ear. With a bit of luck she could use that, if she could only lure one of them close enough to herself or Jareth.

Before she could form a plan to do anything, Jareth lunged for her, a deep growl echoing around the room, making her scramble away from him, even as her body trembled with need. Shivering on the other side of the bed, as far from him as the chain attached to her collar would allow, Sarah moaned in response to the feral snarl, her body reacting to the tone of power in his voice, making her thighs quiver as her core dripped freely.

"Fuck…" she panted, fighting against the odd urge to roll toward him and submit to his will.

She had heard the stories about the High Fae 'power voice', but always thought it was just a tale made up to scare the lesser races - apparently it wasn't - and in the right, or wrong circumstances, it was sexy as Hell.

_I'm so screwed…. Or...from the looks of things I will be soon enough._

Biting her lip, she looked at Jareth and shut her eyes as she weighed her options. At that moment, there was only one good option for survival, but that didn't mean there wouldn't be pain and most likely a fair bit of bloodshed involved. Shaking her head to clear it, she glowered at him and snarled back, her tone low and dark to match his own, an action that only earned her an 'Alpha growl' from Jareth, as he pulled harder against the against the chains, the iron links burning deeper into his skin with a faint hissing sound. The sight of him trying to reach her was both arousing and terrifying, but her traitorous body didn't seem to see the fear, as her stomach fluttered wildly, while a rush of slickness trickled from within her.

_Fucking Fae… no wonder they have a reputation for seducing mortals, if they can make a girl drip without saying a word. Note to self… commission an Elven chastity belt immediately!_

Gulping, Sarah looked at their captors, her green eyes wide and pleading. "Please let me go. Keep him… but let me go."

The taller of the two men snorted and shook his head, slowly stroking the front of his jeans in a way that made Sarah want to gag, seeing the slight twitch from under the denim. "Not likely honey. You've got magic and from the looks him, so does he. You'll fetch a pretty penny for us," he sneered, coming closer to her as he openly rubbed himself in her face. "I'll give you a piece of this and maybe we can talk."

Gagging now, Sarah flinched backward, only to scream as Jareth grabbed her, his claws digging into the flesh of her bicep, but miraculously not piercing the skin. His eyes glinted evilly, while he snarled deeply, snuffling along the side of her neck.

"Aw look...he likes you," the man laughed, then gave a quick hip thrust in her direction. "Makes me look pretty damn good compared to the damage he'll do to you."

Sarah hissed in pain at the feel of Jareth's claws, only to gasp and scramble away from him the moment he let go. Glaring at the men, his growl deepened, the sound vibrating within Sarah's skull until her body seemed to pulse with the low, rumbling rhythm.

"Fuck...snap out of it. I'm not your goddamn mate or any such shit!" she hissed at Jareth, then looked at the men. "Ok...fine… you want a show, fine. But you let him go when we're done. You can keep me instead," she offered, a faint glimmer of hope burning in her as the one with the gun sticking out of his waistband looked interested, his deep set eyes washing over her naked body. "Just… just unlock my wrists and we can do this…"

"Why should we listen to you?" he demanded, his hand falling to the butt of the gun.

Growling as irritation got the better of her, Sarah snapped. "Because otherwise the only person in this room who will survive will be him," she said, jerking her head toward Jareth. "You idiots don't know much about Nephilim do you? You dose them with the wrong stuff, they'll fuck any humanoid to death...male, female...doesn't matter. So unless you guys want to be his lil fuck bunnies until you are a bloody corpse, you'd best let me handle him."

_Hopefully they're too stupid to know he is High Fae and not Nephilim..._

"Seriously? You're telling me you'd take on that piece of fuckmeat? He'd split you in two with that thing!" scoffed the man, gesturing toward Jareth's cock, which was jutting out further after getting the scent of Sarah's body and the need that was now dripping down her thighs.

"Make up your fucking mind you moron!" she shouted, as Jareth's lips curled into a terrifying smile, a low approving growl rumbling in his throat at her show of temper. "One minute you're all for letting him fuck  _me_  to death and now you show concern?!"

The cold sound of a gun cocking sliced through the room, a moment before the barrel was placed to her forehead. "Watch it you mouthy bitch. If he's really Nephilim, he's more valuable than you are . I can put a bullet through your head and still make a tidy profit."

"Yeah...and if you do that, I can pretty much promise that neither of you will leave this room alive. He  _will_  kill you," Sarah hissed, her hands curling into fists, trying to quell the force of the magic that begged to escape.

A sudden jolt of magic slammed through her, forcing her eyes shut, as she saw her words to be the truth - in vivid color.

Behind her shut eyes she saw herself lying in a heap, a bullet hole in her forehead. With a horrible howl, Jareth broke the chains that bound him with a fierce lunge that ripped them from the wall. His eyes were blood red, baleful and dark as they looked without pity upon the men cowering along the wall. Red and black scaled feathers sprouted from his shoulder blades, giving a sharp snap and spreading wide. Around him a swirling red and black haze appeared, whipping his hair around his head as it lengthened, a mesmerizing mix of fair blonde, tipped with black and red. He gave a terrifying roar, then moved too fast for her to see. Within seconds both men were dead, parts of their bodies strewn about the small room, the walls now resembling a Pollack print painted in blood and gore.

Whimpering she forced her eyes open, unwilling to see anymore. The low growl beside her made her tremble, shrinking further away from Jareth, even as she glanced at him, if only to reassure herself that he was not demonstrating the horrifying truth she had discovered. She'd seen many truths since she discovered the power bestowed upon her by the Labyrinth, but that was the most terrifying truth she had seen.

"Why would you  _want_  to fuck him?" asked the shorter guy, skirting the end of the bed and trying to stay well away from Jareth's reach.

Forcing herself to put aside her vision and the fears she now harbored, Sarah shrugged and glared at the man holding the gun to her head. "If I'm gonna die, I'd rather it be by his hand than either of you two assholes."

_That much is true… somewhere in there, Jareth cares if he'd do that to them for killing me._

With a smarmy leer, the one with the gun shifted a step and nodded to his partner. "Give her hands more chain," he snapped, then aimed the gun at Jareth, his eyes locked on Sarah. "Fine...but one wrong move and I put a bullet in his head, then yours."

The shorter man scooted forward quickly and loosened the chain holding her hands to the headboard, giving her more slack. Making a show of stretching, she arched her hands behind her head and neck, breathing a sigh of relief when she felt the tip of the stiletto hidden in the braids. A plan began to form, but in order to stay alive long enough to put it into action, she had do as she promised - she had to fuck Jareth.

"Just.. settle back, Jareth," she murmured, letting her voice drop into a soft, low purr. "Easy...just relax...and don't kill me...please...I'll keep your secret...you keep mine...yeah?"

_He acts like a predatory animal, maybe he'll respond if I treat him like the Alpha._

Shutting her eyes, she crawled toward him with her head low. Sarah's heart hammered loudly in her ears as she nuzzled along his calf, peppering it with small kisses. The spicy musk that usually seemed to cling to him, was stronger now, hanging over them with a force that was almost palpable. Giving a soft whine, Sarah opened her eyes, to find herself faced with a part of the Goblin King that she definitely didn't expect to be up close and personal with when he showed up at Mama Khun's the night before.

In the the three years since she started to support herself as the Finder, she'd found herself in a lot of strange positions while working for clients. She had been made the first mate on a pirate ship, flown over T'Chara upside down in the claws of an over-amorous dragon, found herself trapped in the web of a Glass Spider deep within the crystal caverns under the Durogan Range, and even been sold into a harem - twice, in two different kingdoms. Odd situations weren't new. But this...this was the first time she'd had to fuck a client just to keep herself, and them, alive.

With a soft, submissive whine, Sarah, took a deep breath, then raised her gaze to meet Jareth's dark eyes. A possessive growl rumbled in his throat, but he made no move to touch her, his black eyes glued to her face. Swallowing hard, she flicked her tongue out and slowly traced around the thick head of his erection, teasing the tip under the firm ridge. A shiver rushed through her at the feel of faint scaled ridges gliding along the side of her tongue.

_Fuck! They were ridges...or scales… shitshitshit what the Hell are you, Jareth?!_

Jareth's growl burbled deeper in his chest, no longer threatening, but giving her the sense that he approved of what she was doing. The first taste of him, as her tongue teased over the slit, sent a jolt of electricity racing down her spine, eliciting a throaty snarl from Jareth and a startled moan from Sarah.

_This is just business. You've had to fake it for years with partners who can't get you off. The Goblin King is no different. It's just business. Nothing else...Nothing...tra la la…_

Licking her lips now, Sarah trailed her fingertips up along the underside of his cock, finally finding the courage to have a look at him, as her fingers teased over single rows of scales that swirled around his flesh. Unsure how she was going to manage him, she wrapped her hand around him, a shudder running through her at the weighty girth of him. Slowly she shifted on the bed, dimly aware of the soft pants and grunts of the men watching them. Not wanting to know what they were doing as they watched, she ignored the sounds and turned her eyes to Jareth's face, keenly aware of the fact that if he lost the last shred of control, he could kill her before she'd have a chance to react. Giving another submissive whimper, she opened her mouth and purred as she sucked the bulbous head between her lips, running her tongue around the tip, until she felt him twitch against her tongue.

_Damn… he should have a license to carry this thing._

Slowly she began to stroke her hand up and down the length of him, while bobbing her head lower to take him deeper with each stroke. With each twisting stroke of her hand, Jareth's growl grew louder, as his cock throbbed and twitched, hardening until he felt like a velvet covered steel rod. As her lips passed over the soft skin, she marveled at the oddly sensual feel of the swirling scales, teasing her own lips and tongue. Gasping for air around the thickness stretching her mouth wide, Sarah moaned, at the sudden taste of him. Sweet and musky, it coated her tongue and dribbling past her lips, as she swallowed. The moment she first truly tasted the essence of him, her body reacted with a violent shiver that rocked her to her toes, her core seeming to vibrate with need now.

_I guess I'll find out if mortal birth control can stand up to High Fae...Nephilim virility. Shit...if you get me pregnant, Jareth...I will never forgive you. I swear I will make your life a misery!_

Jareth's hands came up, sliding along the side of her head and pulling her down sharply upon him, gagging her as he snarled loudly, the sound making Sarah's core clench uselessly, a flood of moisture rushing to coat the already dripping folds. Gripping the hair at the back of her head, Jareth gave a dark growl, the power in his tone making her tremble, even as the grunting noises near them grew louder.

Purring softly, Sarah released him, her eyes locked to his. Lazily licking her lips, she felt a brief burst of pride that she could control his gaze with such a simple movement. His eyes flickered red for a moment, the weight of his gaze intensely erotic and terrifying at the same time. Slowly she moved up the mattress, her hand still stroking the firm shaft, running her fist up over the head, before pulling back down. His hips rocked up into her fist with each stroke, until the length of him was glossy and slick. Taking a deep breath, Sarah straddled his hips, holding him steady, then slowly sinking down onto him.

It had been months since she had last had sex, and while she played with various toys collected from around the realms, nothing she had prepared for her for the weapon she now faced. The sensation of the full head stretching her as it 'popped' inside was enough to make her gasp, her eyes widening in surprise at the electric sensation that raced from the top of her head to her clit. Jareth's growl deepened, frightening at first, then seeming almost reassuring. Without warning, his arms snaked up around her and roughly slammed her down fully on him, a gasping scream bursting from her throat. Pain warred with pleasure, as a sizzle of magic coursed through her the moment he filled her completely.

"FUCK!" she grunted, as an orgasm suddenly rocketed through her, the first she'd felt with another person in four years. Her body clenched around him, rippling as the sensation spread out from her core, leaving her panting and breathless.

Jareth's feral growl deepened, rumbling in her ears until she felt it vibrating through her whole being. His hands grasped her hips, as she began to slide slowly up and down the thick length of him, the slick sound of her own juices mingling with his. The heat of his body seemed to burn against her breasts, the motion of her body against his making her nipples pull painfully tight. Within moments, Jareth's arms wrapped around her back, as he gripped her shoulders, buying himself more leverage, to thrust deeply upward.

"That's it… unf...yes… like that…" she moaned, dragging her fingernails along his back, her inner muscles massaging him with each stroke of her body against his.

Jareth snarled in her ear, slamming upward hard, the thrust sparking a burst of pleasure and pain that raced outward from her grasping pussy. Panting, Sarah groaned, marveling at the way her body quivered with each powerful stroke. Without thinking, she raked her nails along his arms at as the next hard thrust, sent another jolt of magic and pleasure through her. Jareth hissed and arched at the scratching of her nails, driving faster into her with a predatory growl.

_Oh...shit… I can't… this shouldn't…feel...so fucking...good!_

Within moments Sarah found herself struggling to remember that what she was doing was 'just business.' Each fierce thrust drove her closer to the peak again, a feat she had never experienced in her life, and one she didn't really want to have under these circumstances - but given the way her body was responding to Jareth's touch, she wouldn't have a choice.

Groaning, as the orgasm built faster, she shook her head, trying to clear her mind to carry out her plan. A vicious thrust made her cry out, feeling him bottoming out deep inside her, Sarah twisted her hands into Jareth's hair and gave a sharp pull, jerking his head toward her throat.

"Bite me!" she snarled, pitching her voice to hit the register used only by Guardian's. Being at least part Fae, she was counting on Jareth reacting to it and was not disappointed. Jareth shuddered violently, an ethereal roar echoing in the room as he sunk his teeth into the juncture between her shoulder and neck. The moment his teeth pierced her flesh, Sarah screamed, her back arching in paroxysms of ecstasy with each pull of his mouth upon her throat.

After three pulls, Jareth shivered, pulling away from the torn flesh, his ice blue eyes narrowing in confusion as he looked at her, still moaning and twitching with the aftershocks of her second orgasm.

"Sarah...what…" he gasped, only to grunt at the feel of her silken folds spasming around him.

Slamming her lips against his, Sarah kissed him hungrily, the taste of her blood on his lips only fueling the fire inside her. Shutting her eyes, she focused all of the magic within her upon Jareth.

"Fuck me like you mean it if you want to get out of here alive, Jareth!" she thought, letting a sudden burst of power free, slamming the thought into his mind.

Hissing in pain from the sudden intrusion of her thought, Jareth shuddered, his cock throbbing inside her in both pleasure and pain as she began to ride him faster. He panted softly in her ear, grabbing her hips and driving her down harder onto his cock out of instinct more than desire, "What happened ...to not ...fucking clients?" he muttered in her ear.

"Special... yes...like that… circumstances," she grunted, only to growl low as he began to tease his fingers around her hips and up her back. "Damnit Jareth...now is NOT the time to act like you actually want to make love to me. They think you're a drugged Nephilim who is going to fuck me within an inch of my life… can you at least act the part?" she snarled in his ear, then bit his neck hard enough to draw blood, but nowhere as deep has he had bitten him.

Snarling, Jareth dug his viciously sharp claws into her shoulders, using them as leverage as he fucked her hard and fast, his hips pounding upward hard enough that she saw stars each time he bottomed out within her. Sarah moaned and arched her arms over her back, crying out with each vicious thrust, while her slender fingers teased through the braids to grasp the handle of the stilletto. As she neared the peak again, Sarah fought against the rising tension inside her. Out of the corner of her eye she caught sight of one of their captors. Wrapping her fingers around the stiletto, she prepared to lunge for the man while he was distracted with his hand around his cock, only to freeze, her eyes wide as they locked on Jareth's, a throaty cry taking her by surprise.

The heat building within her suddenly rushed upward, tearing through her with a power she had never known. Each heated spasm of Jareth's cock filling her, sent another burst of pleasure rocketing through her, until her eyes rolled back in her head, a wonderfully terrible buzzing filling her brain. Under her, Jareth threw back his head and roared, the sound shaking the walls, as a retina-searing white light enveloped them two of them and burst outward engulfing the room.

A breathless scream filled Sarah's head.

It took her several minutes to realize it was hers.

Dazed, she blinked and tried to focus, her vision blurry. Groaning, she turned her head, feeling a firm body under her. When she lifted her head, she saw she was laying on Jareth's chest, and he was passed out beneath her.

_Jareth passing out is starting to be a disturbing trend. Either I suck at sex or together we're very good at it….no...no...not gonna think about that. This was just business. Just business._

With a confused frown, Sarah pushed herself upward, gasping at the sudden sharp pain deep inside her, where Jareth's still hard cock was buried within her grasping channel. Hearing pained moans, Sarah looked around the room. The shorter captor was on the floor, blood dribbling from his ears and mouth, his eyes staring vacantly at the ceiling. Looking to her right, she saw the other man stumbling about.

"I'm blind… fuck… Jay...help me!" he whimpered, clutching at his eyes, blood running down his cheeks.

Pushing herself off Jareth, Sarah moaned at the intense feeling of emptiness that settled inside of her without his thickness stretching her. Despite her wobbling legs, she grabbed the chain between her cuffed wrists and pulled it taut. Grunting, she wrapped it around the bigger man's throat, tugging it tight and wrenching it firmly as he struggled, until he finally fell limp to the floor, dragging her down with him. It took the last of her strength to roll him off the chain, then stand. Dropping on the bed, a weary sigh tore from her lips as she worked to wrap her head around all that had happened, while trying to ignore the sticky feeling that coated her thighs.

Sarah cocked her head, listening intently, then reached out with her senses, searching for other people nearby.

_No others here. No alarm has been raised. That buys us some time._

Reaching over Sarah shoved Jareth's shoulder hard enough to shake him. "Wake up sleeping beauty. It's time to get out of here and I'm gonna need your help."

With a sudden jerk, Jareth saw the man on the ground and lunged for him with an angry roar, only to be yanked back by the heavy iron of the collar around his throat, grunting and struggling to free himself.

"Down boy...you'll only hurt yourself with that iron. Besides, we need him alive to tell us where Anwyn is," Sarah muttered, plucking the stiletto from her hair. A cascade of heavy brunette braids and curls fell down her back, drawing Jareth's attention.

Confused, Jareth frowned, his ice blue eyes washing over Sarah as she sat next him on the bed, naked and sporting bleeding scratches around her hips. His frown deepened when he spied the bleeding bite mark on her throat. "What...what happened?" he asked, gingerly touching the angry red welts on his throat and flinching as a pulse of pain flooded him.

Shrugging, Sarah unscrewed the handle of the blade and spilled small tools onto the stained mattress. "We had sex and it apparently killed one guy and blinded the other. Honestly, you should come with a warning 'Fucking the Goblin King may be hazardous to your health," she quipped dryly. "Come here, let's get the iron off you so you can get us out of here."

For the first time, Jareth obeyed her instructions without question, shifting closer to her and offering her his neck. He watched her suck on the tip of her tongue as she worked, slotting the tiny tools into the lock and jiggling them until it finally clicked open. Without speaking she grabbed his wrist gently, and turned it over on her thigh to begin working the lock on the cuff. Glancing at the cuff, he felt an odd pang within him, seeing fluids seeping down her thighs, intermixed with smears of blood. Looking away, he found himself surprised at the fact that she didn't seem bothered by her nudity or his. The sex flush was rapidly fading from her chest, giving him a better view. He felt a strange sense of anger at the sight of a number of pale scars scattered over her body, some appearing to have been quite vicious wounds, most likely designed to kill her. As much as he wanted to ask about them, there were more pressing matters that needed attention.

"We… had sex? Was it… Did I…?"

"You didn't rape me if that's what you're wondering," she replied quietly, her lock-picking skills making quick work of the first wrist cuff. "You were drugged or something and if they'd let you loose, yeah...you probably would've raped me...and dismembered them. I saw a chance to get us free by getting them to let me do things my way so…. Technically, I suppose since you weren't in your right mind to consent... I raped you," she muttered, a hint of distress creeping into her voice.

A wave of bile flooded her mouth at the thought of what she'd done. Dropping the lock picks, Sarah lurched over the side of the bed, heaving the last of her supper onto the floor with wracking coughs. At the feel of a warm hand on her shoulder, she flinched away, gasping.

"Just...don't…." she panted, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. "I...there's no excuse, Jareth. I'm...I'm sorry. I should have found another way," Sarah muttered, unable to look at him as she worked on the second wrist cuff.

His words were surprisingly quiet when he spoke, but he made no further attempt to touch her, "It's okay, Sarah. In the state I was in, you chose the only sensible option that would protect you."

Numb desolation washed through her, as she nodded. "I thought… I thought at least if I was in charge of the situation, I could keep you in control enough to get you to bite me and… well that part of the plan worked. I just wasn't counting on the explosion or whatever it was."

When the last cuff fell free, Sarah sighed and scooped the tools back into the stilletto and tucked it back into her hair. Standing, she kicked the blind guy hard in the ribs. "Fucking frat boys… who know just enough about the Nether to be dangerous...more to themselves." Sarah shook her head, showing no discomfort about her nudity or his. Glancing at Jareth, still sitting on the stained mattress, she sighed. "If you want to transport us out of here, now would be a good time...but bring him with us," she said, pointing at the larger of the two men.

Rising from the bed, Jareth moved close to her, a lance of regret slicing through him at the way she stepped away from him, as if she could not bear to be close to him after what had happened. Free of the iron that bound his power, he pulled a shimmering crystal from the air, then let it drop. Around them the room faded into mist, that seemed to rush through a vortex of light before winking out of view in a flash of blue.

Sarah grunted as her feet landed hard on a stone floor, then stumbled from the force of the landing. A firm hand shot out, catching her before she could fall. Startled by her loss of balance, Sarah froze, then pushed away from Jareth the moment she found her balance, a stricken look on her face. Looking around, her eyes met with curved grey stone walls, and a familiar rounded throne draped in sparkling grey and blue fabric.

"Wait...whoa! Why are we here?!" she demanded, waving her hand toward the throne room they now stood in, her verdant eyes flickering sharply at Jareth.

Rolling his eyes, Jareth shrugged, his bare flesh seeming to shimmer slightly in the dim light of the throne room, the full sight of him threatening to derail her anger entirely.

_Damn...even flaccid he's impressive. No...no...bad Sarah. No mixing business and pleasure!_

"You said to get us out of there and we have a prisoner. Unless you have a dungeon in your flat, where else were you planning to lock this one up?" he asked, walking briskly across the throne room. His body seemed to fall out of focus for a brief moment, before appearing fully clothed in the black leather armor of the Goblin King.

Curling his tongue around his teeth, Jareth gave a shrill whistle that echoed loudly off the stone walls of the throne room. A riot of popping sounds answered the call, as a horde of goblins appeared at his heels. The goblins cackled wildly, cavorting around Jareth's boots. Noticing Sarah, they gawped at her, their eyes bulging while their mouths with ragged and rotting teeth hung open. Noting the hush that fell over his minions, Jareth looked toward Sarah, a slight frown creasing his forehead at the sight of the seeping bite mark upon her throat.

"Take this one to the dungeon," he ordered the horde, waving a gloved hand at the man sprawled on the stones. A small group of goblins grabbed him and disappeared with a popping sound.

Despite the fact that the goblins and their king were currently staring at her, Sarah made no move to cover herself. Tossing her head, she glared at Jareth, her hands coming to rest on her hips. "I can't conduct my investigation here, Jareth."

Jareth snorted with a short burst of derisive laughter. "Unless I am mistaken, the next logical step in this investigation would be interrogation."

A decidedly evil grin curled his lips as he headed toward the door of the throne room. Growling in irritation, Sarah followed him, stomping up the corridor at his heels, her bare feet slapping on the stone floor. Ignoring the way goblins and several Fae servants stared curiously at her, Sarah hurried to keep up with Jareth, only vaguely disturbed by the way her breasts bounced with each step. Sarah clenched her fists at her sides, refusing to act the simpering female and attempting to cover herself.

_If he's going to be an ass and not give me clothes, then I'm not going to give him the pleasure of complaining about it. Arrogant prick!_

"You'd better let me handle it, if he sees you in that get up he'll be too afraid to speak," she grumbled, trying to ignore the chill she felt as they hurried up the hall.

"Why would you think that? It doesn't seem to have such an effect on you."

"It does...just not that kind of effect…" she muttered under her breath, stalking along with her head down, only to freeze with a quiet squeak when Jareth suddenly appeared behind her, his armor feeling oddly warm against the bare flesh of her back.

"Care to elaborate, Precious," he purred in her ear, the warmth of his breath against her neck making her shiver.

Snarling, Sarah whirled around, her eyes snapping angrily as she jabbed him in the chest with her finger. "No… we aren't discussing  _that._..now...and I'd appreciate it if you gave me some clothing - preferably a facsimile of what I was wearing before we got jumped. I prefer not to interrogate people in the nude."

Jareth took his time, making a show of looking her up and down, his pale eyes glittering wickedly. "Why? I think you look rather charming naked and collared in my castle."

Her hand flew up to her neck, as she tugged at the collar. Frowning, she thought for a moment he was possessed again, but his eyes were still the ice blue she remembered from when they first met.

"Look Goblin King, you won't think I'm charming when I try to castrate you with my teeth, now gimme some clothes!"

Laughing softly, Jareth faced her anger with his hands planted on his hips, the leather cloak flicking around his ankles. "If it involves your mouth and some rather interested areas of my anatomy, I think I could manage. Besides, I'm quite sure you wouldn't be so inclined to bite me - you weren't earlier."

Sarah gulped, a wave of embarrassment flooding her. "You...you remember that? But you were completely out of it when I did….that."

"It is hazy, but yes, I have some awareness of what you were doing. You seemed...how should I put this?...Enthusiastic. Given the difficult circumstances, I suspect your enthusiasm would be greater without guns being pointed at your head or mine. Perhaps we should try again when the lines of consent are no longer blurred."

A faint roaring sound surrounded Sarah, her hands flickering with blue light that sizzled in the air. Taking a deep breath, she quelled the urge to lash out at him.

"Clothes. Now, Goblin King...or I walk. You can find her on your own," she snarled, crossing her arms over her chest and stopping in the hallway, ignoring the curious grey-green eyes of the goblin horde that surrounded them.

"You have your own magic, obviously. Can't you do it?"

"If, I could...do you think I'd be standing in your castle,  _naked_?" she ground out, her eyes flickering deep green in her anger. "My magic is more… violent than practical. And believe me, buddy, at the moment I'd like nothing more than to give you a very personal display of how violent it could be, I just don't fancy a charge of regicide to go with my High Council banishment."

"Fine… but I find this outfit far more alluring. But then, I do always seem to find myself giving in to your whims. It is so exhausting living up to your expectations of me."

Giving him an incredulous look, Sarah hissed, "Oh? Giving in to my whims, huh? Who was it that interrupted my processing of the scene, after I specifically told you to stay outside the flat?!"

Jareth gave a dismissive wave of his hand, and chuckled, "In my defense, Precious… I was possessed or spelled, or whatever. So I was not consciously aware of disobeying your  _order_  of me."

"Convenient that you claim not to be conscious of your actions, but you certainly remembered  _mine_."

Expecting a crystal or something equally showy, Sarah gasped when she Jareth merely flicked his wrist in her direction. A warm flood of heat washed over her, making her shiver and sigh with relief. Looking down she found that he had indeed clothed her - technically at least. Her legs were encased in tight, black leather pants. A pair of black boots with heels more suited to clubbing than trudging through the city, appeared on her feet, the leather tightly hugging her legs from foot to thigh. Her upper half was swathed in a shift of black silk, the full sleeves fastened with embroidered cuffs. Over the shirt was a tightly laced corset vest, covered in blood red embroidery of the Goblin King's sigil. A quiet growl rumbled within her at the knowledge he had visually marked her as his.

One of the smaller goblins crept forward, wrapping it's arm around Jareth's leg as it peered up at her, then looked at Jareth.

"Queen?" he asked, his voice rasping and raw.

Sarah snorted softly, "He wishes!"

Pursing his lips in frustration, Jareth arched an eyebrow at the Champion. "I am the King of Wishes, woman. If I so wished, it would be so, that is a promise." Kicking the goblin away from him, Jareth growled, "This is business, you cretin. She is just… the hired help."

Sarah bristled at the idea that he thought she was 'just anything'. "And just what's wrong with me?" she demanded, stepping toward him until they were chest to chest glaring at each other.

"Oh dear me...where  _shall_  I begin. The list might take hours. Perhaps it would be better to have that particular discussion over dinner… or breakfast?" he suggested with a knowing leer.

Holding up her hand, Sarah shook her head and looked away. "You know, I don't fucking care what you think. Let's just get on with this… so I can get out of here and away from you, Goblin King," she said, starting up the hall again. "I'll need some tools for the interrogation. A few knives and a fireplace poker should do."

"I will handle the interrogation," Jareth snapped, marching off up the hall once more, following Sarah.

"Oh no you won't, Goblin King!," she barked, grabbing his arm and turning him to face her. "We need him alive and I have no doubt seeing you in your full terrifying glory will turn him into a gibbering idiot. So no...you do  _not_  get to torture him. I will. We do this  _my_  way or I go home. Your choice, Jareth."

His pale eyes flickered dark blue, as he glared at her. After several moments in which the silence threatened to deafen her, the Goblin King grudgingly nodded. "Fine. But when you are through with him and have gotten all you can - I get to do as I will."

"Agreed. At that point, you can have him...as long as I can watch."

Arching an eyebrow, Jareth appraised her with interest, a wicked chuckle purring in his chest. "Why Sarah...I wouldn't have thought you could be so cruel."

"You accused me of being cruel once before. I've just spent the last 8 years perfecting it," she shrugged. "Now let's go get our information."

**~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~**

It took a lot to impress Jareth when it came to women. There was a reason he was still happily unattached after several centuries of having single women of all races and backgrounds throwing themselves at him. Granted, most were happy to have a bit of a tumble with him and be paraded about on his arm a time or two at High Court functions, just for the prestige it would give them, but there were some who had designs upon becoming the Goblin Queen and one day the High Queen. It was the throne seekers he turned away easily, having never met anyone who kept his interest from the vapid, simpering fools that tried to seek his favor. The thought of any of them torturing a suspect for information was laughable, as most would likely faint at the first hint of the cruelty necessary for such an endeavor.

Sarah on the other hand, turned out to be rather gifted in the field.

Upon reaching the cell where their former captor was being held, Sarah had told him in no uncertain terms that she expected him to stay out of her way and stay silent. Still annoyed at her tone, he had agreed, if only to see whether she really had what was necessary to interrogate him.

As it turned out - she did.

She entered the room silently and stood by the wounded man, where he was chained to the wall. A frown pulled at her lips, as a pale green glow filled her hand. "It's no fun interrogating someone who is grievously injured," she grumbled. Raising her hand she thrust the glowing green orb into the man's face. A moment later he began to scream and thrash, before slowly settling down. Groaning he raised his head and looked at Sarah, his eyes wide and staring in shock.

"I can see?" he moaned in question.

"Yes...for the moment at least," she chuckled, malicious sneer upon her face.

The sight of the blood on the man's cheeks made Jareth cringe inwardly, remembering the blood smeared upon Sarah's thighs. _'We will have to talk about what happened...there may be consequences that must be addressed,'_ he mused, his hand lightly running over the small bite mark on his neck, before his attention was captured by Sarah once more.

"You...you're… alive?" the man wheezed, his eyes frantically looking around. Seeing Jareth, he flinched, tugging at the chains that held him bound. "Or am I dead?"

"Not yet, but I'm happy to remedy that oversight," Jareth growled, from his corner, an intense hatred for the man suffusing him at the mere fact that he dared to speak to his Champion.

Giving Jareth a warning glare, Sarah stepped in front of the man, blocking him from looking at the Goblin King. "We both are alive, though I can't say the same about your friend. He died with his dick in his hand, I'm sure there's a special place in the Otherworld for assholes like that." The man craned his head, trying to peek at Jareth. In a flash Sarah backhanded him hard enough to slam his head against the wall. "Pay attention to ME, asshole!" When he gawped at her and panted, she continued. "You have a choice, you can deal with me and give me the information I want, or I can give you to my friend here. Of the two of us, I want you alive - he on the other hand," she said, gesturing toward Jareth, "... would rather eviscerate you, then flay you alive just to hear your dying screams."

"Who...who are you people?"

"People you shouldn't have messed with," she purred, pulling a thin Elven steel knife from her boot. Inspecting the blade, she gave him a devious smile, her green eyes glinting with wicked intent. "So here's what's going to happen. I'm going to ask questions and you're going to answer them with the truth." Seeing the man's sly grin, she gave a cruel laugh, the sound making Jareth's groin tighten in response. "But there's a catch. You see, I'm something of a living lie detector. Each time you lie to me, I will hand you over to him and he can hurt you in any way he wishes. Then, I'll heal you just enough that you can talk to me again, and we'll start all over. You see, I don't care if he breaks every damn bone in your body. I happen to get off on the sound of screams," she lied, pleased when the man whimpered and shrank back from her. "And my friend here well, I have no doubt that killing you in some long, slow, drawn out way, will give him an immense amount of pleasure. So if you want to avoid that, I suggest you just tell me what I want to know and save us all a bit of time and effort."

Silently, the man nodded, the chains chiming softly as he cowered before her.

"First question, What is the name of Darius's club?" she asked, trailing the tip of the blade down the side of the man's face.

He moaned and shook his head. "I...I don't know…. I just know there is one."

Sarah tutted quietly, shaking her head with a mocking smile. "Silly boy. Wrong answer."

Stepping back, she smiled at Jareth, and nodded toward the chained man, the cruelty in her eyes making him long to pin her against the wall and fuck her senseless.

"Play time. Just leave him alive. You've got 1 minute," she purred.

Jareth's lips curled upward revealing sharp canines, but no trace of the fangs he had earlier. "Do you know the damage I could do to him in a mere minute, Precious?"

"I do, which is why you have to play by my rules on this - leave him alive enough to heal. Necromancy is not one of my… 'talents'," she chuckled.

Without warning Jareth shot forward, his movements fast enough that Sarah could not see what he had done until he stepped back and returned to his corner, his breathing not the slightest bit labored. Looking at the sobbing wretch of a man, she nodded, running her hand over the broken bones in his hands and arms. With each breath, he screamed and sobbed again, as the movement jostled the compound fractures.

"Impressive," she murmured, then grabbed the man roughly by the hair and slammed his head back against the wall, before driving her knee up hard into his balls, making him shriek. Dropping his head, she stepped back and crossed her arms, watching him blubber until snot and tears ran down his face, to drip onto the stone floor of the cell. After several minutes, she pulled magic into her hand again, then pushed the green glow into his chest, making him scream and cry, before the healing took effect. Still moaning in pain, he hung limp in the chains.

"Now then, we'll try the question again. What is the name of Darius's club?" she demanded, stabbing the elven blade into his radial nerve until he screamed. Withdrawing it, she wiped the blood on her sleeve. "I'm waiting."

Whimpering he shook his head, "It's...it's just called 'The Club'. Darius doesn't run it...he just supplies the…"

"The what?" Sarah growled, stabbing him in the other arm as he howled and thrashed. Pulling the blade free, she wiped it off on his stomach, then trailed it along his groin. "Next time the blade goes through your useless micro-penis, so I suggest you give me what I want," she snarled, dimly aware of an approving rumble from Jareth.

"Mephistopheles...that's the name of the guy who runs it all," he screamed, his voice hoarse with tears.

Glancing at Jareth, Sarah almost laughed - he looked disappointed that the man had told the truth. A quiet smirk twisted her lips as she turned her attention back to the man in front of her. "Good boy. For that, I won't let him play with you… for now. But I have other questions. What do they do with the beings you sell to the club?"

Whining, the man tried to shrink back from her, shaking his head frantically. "I...I don't really know...honest."

Sarah shook her head and stepped back. She didn't need to say a word to Jareth, before he lunged for the man. Leaning against the wall, Sarah watched black crystals appear in Jareth's hands. A low growl rumbled through the cell as he thrust them viciously into the man's' stomach and groin, a sudden jet of blood spattering Jareth's armor and the floor of the cell. The man's screams died to gasping sobs, as crimson bubbles burst against his lips. Seeing Jareth ready two more crystals, Sarah grabbed his arm.

"No… the deal is that you leave him alive enough for me to work with," she snapped, then calmed seeing the desolate fury in Jareth's eyes. Squeezing his arm, she slowly took the crystal from him and held it to her lips, then blew, sending it floating upward where it burst. The pain in his face made her heart ache for him, but she had a job to do. "I'll take it from here. Soon… we'll have what we need."

When Sarah released his arm, Jareth let the second crystal vanish, and returned to his corner, the leather of his cloak creaking quietly in time with the wounded man's gasps. Turning back to the man, Sarah frowned, shaking her head, he was closer to death than she wanted, but she couldn't fault Jareth. Holding her hands in front of her, Sarah breathed slowly as she pulled magic from within, then thrust it into his stomach. The agonized screams echoed throughout the dungeon before dying down into whimpered sobs.

Before she could even ask a question, he began to babble.

"They use them for entertainment...any magical freaks we can catch...some of them they whore out in their brothel… others they fight...others they experiment on...and some they….they hunt them...that's all I know….I swear…."

Glancing over her shoulder at Jareth, Sarah's eyes narrowed in concern, knowing what she needed to ask, but dreading Jareth's response. "I need a picture of her."

Jareth said nothing, but snapped his fingers, a picture in a frame appearing in Sarah's hand. In it was a slender, blonde Fae woman with features nearly identical to Jareth's, the only difference being her striking violet eyes. Sarah wrenched the man's head upward again and shoved the photo in his face.

"Did you and that moron Jay take this woman?"

Blearily he looked at the pictures then nodded slightly, wincing at the pain from the grasp Sarah had on his hair. "Yeah… I think that's the one we picked up last weekend. Her boyfriend...he's a member of the club."

Hearing Jareth's enraged snarl, Sarah motioned him to stay still, knowing full well any control he had was tenuous at best. "Was she alive when you sold her to Darius?"

"Yeah… she… was hurt, but alive. We… we let the satyr freak rape her. He hurt her...bad...real bad, but...but… she pulled loose...broke the chains...and...and...she fucking ripped his head off!" he sobbed, hanging limply in the chains as he shuddered at the memory.

An ethereal roar tore through the dungeon as Jareth rushed forward. Sarah only caught a brief look at him before he shoved her aside, sending her crashing against the cot in the corner of the cell. In the split second look she had, she felt fear course through her - his eyes had gone blood red and his hair was lengthening, the tips lined in red and black.

Against the wall, the man shrieked like every demon in Hell was trying to eat him alive. Then the next instant he fell silent, a string of drool hanging from his chin, his eyes vacant.

Pushing to her feet, Sarah rushed Jareth, shoving him back from her prisoner and screaming,

"For fuck sake, Jareth! I needed him lightly-poached, not fried!" A quick look back at him told her there was nothing more he would be able to give her then, or any other day - his brain was gone.

Panting, Jareth shrugged away from her and hissed, "They let a satyr have her, Sarah! That's...that's… barbaric! I want them. I want them dead!"

"Let me get her back, then you can take the entire goblin army, the vampire clans and anyone else in there and slaughter them all. But by the sound of it, we have more than just your sister to rescue here, so can you just keep your head long enough for us to get them out?" she snapped back. Shaking her head, she sheathed her knife and threw the door of the dungeon open with a metallic bang as it slammed against the wall. "Do whatever you want with the body. Hell, drop it back in the room where they took us, I don't care," she said, walking out into the dungeon and heading for the stairs leading to the upper levels of the castle.

Frowning, Jareth followed her, as goblins went into the cell to dispose of the body. "Where are you going, Sarah?" he huffed, his heels falling sharply on the stone floor.

"Home. I want a shower. I want to sleep in a bed that doesn't have you in it. Then I'll start doing some checking into this club thing and Mephistopheles tomorrow. Your sister has been gone for a week and we don't know how long they are keeping their 'entertainments' alive. So time is ticking. I've got to find my way into that club," she said, her heart thundering in her ears as she fought down a wave of panic that threatened to undo her, as the enormity of all that had happened hit her all at once.

That was the one thing all her training couldn't train out of her - human emotions.

" _We_...we have to get into that club…" Jareth grumbled.

"No...there is no 'we' in this, Jareth," she hissed, wheeling on him and jabbing a finger into his breastplate. "You have shown you are incapable of listening to me when I need you to do something. I'll finish the task on my own. The only thing you and I need to discuss is my terms of payment. But I'm tired and covered in blood that isn't mine...and some that is, so it can wait until morning. For now I'm going to go out into the Labyrinth and open a portal to go home."

Seeing her strength crumbling, in the way her voice cracked and her eyes glittered strangely, Jareth reached out, grasping her arms and holding her still, relieved when she didn't cringe away from his touch. "Sarah… like it or not, after what happened tonight, there is a 'we' in this. We will have to discuss it…" he said, his words quiet and firm, but not unkind.

"No… we don't. As far as I'm concerned it didn't happen," Sarah said, cutting him off. Shaking her head, she shut her eyes, her voice trembling, despite the sharpness of her words. "End of story. It was purely business. That's all."

"Sarah…"

"No, Jareth. There will be no discussion of this. Not tonight. Not ever," she replied, straightening her back and opening her eyes, the verdant dull and emotionless once more.

"At least let me transport you home, Sarah," he said, releasing her arms and brushing stray hair back from her face, drawing his hand back when she again flinched at this touch.

"The wards you set for me mean that no one can transport into the flat without permission. I've already got two blood suckers who can come and go as they please...why would I grant you the same?" she sighed, avoiding his gaze.

Fighting the urge to tilt her face upward and kiss her, Jareth merely offered her a shimmering crystal. "Because, there may come a day when even the eminently capable Finder might need the help of a friend like me…"

Her bitter laugh echoed down the stone corridor, "Friends. Can we ever really be friends, Jareth?"

"You claimed me as a friend four times in the last 24 hours, Sarah - you evoked the magical contract and I accepted it. It is binding if we wish it to be so, and can be dissolved only by mutual agreement."

"So let's dissolve it."

"No. I may cater to some of your whims as the Labyrinth Champion, Sarah...but that is one that I will not agree to. The magical contract that binds us, will stand," he said quietly.

Shaking her head, Sarah sighed, looking at the glittering crystal as he laid it upon her palm. "Why Jareth? Even if we dissolve the contract, I'll still find Anwyn for you."

"This is about more than simply finding my sister, Sarah."

"I'll keep your secrets, Jareth...all of them, just dissolve the contract. It will be for the best, for both of us," she pleaded softly.

Tilting his head, Jareth frowned, his eyes narrowing in confusion. "All of them? You mean my link with Anwyn and what...happened between us tonight."

"And what you are…." she said, her words a whisper. Seeing the odd look on his face, Sarah cringed inwardly and groaned, "Shit! You didn't know? How could you not know?!"

"What did you see, Sarah?" he demanded, the hint of the Fae power tone creeping into his voice, enough for Sarah to step back, gasping as her back met the stone wall.

"I'm sorry, Jareth… I didn't mean to see the truth. It just happened. It was an accident, I swear. I was telling them that if they hurt me you'd rip them apart and then…boom! It just happened," she murmured. "Please...I swear I won't speak of it to anyone, ever. Just let me go home. I'm all Toby has left now. You can't take me away from him!"

"What did you see, Sarah?" he asked again, stepping closer until she was pinned against the wall by his arms, the intensity of his gaze stealing her breath away. "What am I?"

Unable to open a portal and escape, and afraid of what might happen if he used the power voice on her, Sarah gulped, her eyes meeting his as she cursed the gifts his Labyrinth had bestowed on her.

"You're Nephilim."

* * *

**As always...please review :)**


	8. Truth Hurts

**Trigger Warning:** Mention of rape.

* * *

**Ch. 8 Truth Hurts**

Steam billowed through the large bathroom, coating the mirror, counters and walls, until the entire room was more like a sauna than a bathroom - the mist hanging in the air, eerily similar to the fog now filling Sarah's mind. Numb, she stood under the shower, letting the scalding water pour over her head, but her body seemed immune to the sting, even as her flesh turned scarlet from the heat. It was as if every sense of her being was focused inward, her mind buzzing as she fought both to process everything that had happened and pretend it was all a bad dream.

None of her training had prepared her for a day like this.

Sure, she could kill a human with her bare hands, or any number of seemingly non-threatening implements, up to and including a teacup. And when it came to dispatching mythic, legendary or supernatural beings, her mind held an extensive index of races, species and the best ways to relieve them of their immortality. But this… there was no training for this.

_What was I thinking? I should have waited for a better chance to take them out….Way to complicate a simple missing person case, Sarah._

Truthfully, the fact that she had sex with Jareth wasn't what complicated matters, it was the sudden truth she learned about him - a truth he had not known until she told him.

_Why didn't I keep my fucking mouth shut? Stupid...stupid Sarah! The Crown Prince is not pure High Fae. That knowledge is enough to get you killed! Jareth himself warned you to be careful who you revealed truths to, so what did you do? You told probably the most dangerous person in the Nether that you knew a truth about them that could spark wars or make him more of a target than he already is?! No wonder you're such a hoot to have at parties!_

Surprisingly, Jareth said nothing more when she dropped that little bombshell on him. His pale eyes flickered deep blue, and his lips pulled into a tight line. Then he simply turned on his heel and returned to the cell where the vegetative Mark hung in chains, leaving her alone in the dungeon stairwell. She stood there for several minutes debating whether to go after him. In the end self-preservation won out. Retracing their steps, she made it to the throne room, then out of the castle. The minute she stepped foot outside the grounds, she opened her own portal and went straight back to the flat and hopped into the shower.

Turning, she faced the water, grunting in pain as it made the bite on her throat sting and throb, sending strange shivers of pleasure down her spine to pool hotly between her thighs.

_That's new…I wonder what the Hell that means._

Sarah flipped her head back, the dripping brunette tresses slapping heavily against her back, as she leaned her hands against the tiles, letting the water stream down her chest. Her neck hurt. Her hips hurt. And everything between her thighs felt stretched, sore, raw - and oddly empty. The very thought of Jareth was enough to make her pussy throb and start to drip - again. Shaking her head, she sighed and turned around again, letting the water cascade down her back.

_Why gift me the ability to heal if I can't heal myself. Fuck my life. I don't know what Jareth is, just that he's not pure High Fae and not pure Nephilim. And if Anwyn ripped a satyr's head clean off, it's a good bet she isn't pure High Fae either. Fuck...I've gotta get this case wrapped up then just...disappear. There has to be someplace I can disappear to. The Ice Priests of Durogan said I was welcome to join their order any time...maybe it is time to take an extended vacation….like forever… that's not long at all._

While it seemed like a good idea, deep down Sarah knew that with the power the Goblin King could draw upon, there would be no where Above or Below she could hide from him. He would find her. Her life was now in his hands. The only thing that remained now was to wait and see if he chose to kill her or not.

_I'm a trained killer. If I were in his shoes, I'd have already taken out the threat. He's smart. He's cruel. He's trained to be strategic….The only reason I'm not dead yet is because he needs me to find his sister. And stupid me...I gave my promise that I'd do it. Once she's found, he has no reason to keep me alive. I'm too big of a risk._

As the water started to run cold, Sarah used her foot to turn the shower off and jerked a towel from the rack. Deftly twisting it around her dripping hair, she slipped on the oversized, fluffy pink robe, bundling herself into it. Catching a glimpse of herself in the foggy mirror, she sighed, a pang of sadness settling coldly in her chest. Dressed in the fluffy robe dotted with donuts, it was almost easy to pretend she was just another college girl. Frowning at the sight of the inflamed bite on her throat, the brief flight of fantasy shattered into a million blood-stained pieces.

_That's no fucking love bite._

In her bedroom, Sarah pulled on her favourite flannel pajamas. Still shivering she added a thick pair of socks, before pulling her lounging robe on and cinching it tight around her waist. Blissfully numb emotionally, she toweled her hair dry and plaited it, before tugging the covers down on the bed. A faint hint of grave moss and rain swirled in the air, making Sarah sigh.

"Hi Zee…" she muttered, her words lifeless as she sat on the bed and looked up, seeing Zora materialize at the foot of the bed.

"You're back did you find…." Zora started, then stopped, her dark eyes narrowing as she looked at Sarah. "You look like shit, Saranka. What happened?"

"We ran into a bit of trouble, but got a solid lead. I'm gonna follow up on it tonight. I need sleep first," Sarah replied, setting her clock to wake her at 4 in the evening. Rising, Sarah pulled the heavy drapes shut, as the first rays of sunrise began to shimmer through the heavily tinted windows.

"And Jareth…"

"He's Jareth. He's fine. We both are," Sarah sighed, turning back to the bed and sitting.

Growing more alarmed by the second, Zora watched as Sarah pulled the covers over her legs, shivering violently. When the brunette reached for the light, she saw a weeping red bite mark upon Sarah's neck.

"Someone fed from you?!" Zora demanded, rushing toward the bed and pulling down the collar of Sarah's robe to get a better look. "A Nephilim?!"

The bite mark was fresh and jagged - suggesting a race other than vampire. It hadn't been sealed either, which suggested that whoever did it was either a novice, or it was done to with the intent of marking Sarah.

Cringing away from her, Sarah pulled the collar of the robe up to cover the bite. "I don't want to think about anything that happened tonight Zee. Please...just...don't ask. I want to forget. That's all. Just let me forget."

Zora froze, her heart aching at the despondent vulnerability Sarah displayed - something she had not seen from Sarah in five years. "Do you want me to go?"

Sarah sighed, hanging her head, her hands twisting the ties of her robe around her fingers. "Yes...no...fuck, Zee...I don't know. I just…." she said brokenly.

"Hush, Saranka," Zora murmured, her words soft as she stroked Sarah's head and cheek with a gentle touch. "Lay down my love. Sleep. That's what you need first. You can deal with things better after rest."

Silently, Sarah obeyed, curling into a ball within her robe, until only the top of her head and the tip of her nose were visible. Zora carefully pulled the heavy blankets up and tucked them around Sarah, her lips brushing tenderly against Sarah's forehead. Smelling Jareth on Sarah's flesh, even though she had clearly showered, Zora snarled inwardly, sure that something had happened between the Goblin King and Sarah, something that upset Sarah greatly. She longed to sniff the bite mark to see if she recognized who's scent it bore, but knew doing so would only upset Sarah further.

As Zora moved about the room, turning off the lights, she began to sing a quiet lullaby, the one her grandmother always sang to her as a child, when she was feeling lost and alone. She knew her intimate relationship with Sarah would never be as it once was now that the Goblin King had become aware of Sarah's relationship to the Nether, but that did not end the feelings she had for the mortal. She owed Sarah her own unlife. They were more than lovers, they were kindred and that was a bond that would never be broken - no matter who either of them bedded in the centuries to come.

Still humming softly, Zora pulled off her jacket and kicked off her boots.

"Zee...you don't have to…."

Stripping out of her leather pants, Zora deftly unlaced her corset and dropped it on the chair. Dressed only in her loose silk shirt, she slipped into the bed with Sarah.

"Shush, Saranka. This is not about intimacy… this is about friends. And comfort. This is kindred," she murmured, wrapping her arms around Sarah and holding her tenderly.

"You don't have to stay," Sarah mumbled, her voice thick with unshed tears.

"I sleep during the day anyway and the sun is coming up, might as well sleep here." Feeling Sarah tremble, fighting back tears, the vampire queen sighed and whispered, "Sometimes, what a woman needs is another woman's comfort, Saranka...especially when the pain can't be put into words."

For several long minutes neither moved or spoke, the silence finally broken by soft sobs from Sarah, her shoulders shaking slightly with her misery. Unable to do anything more than she was already doing, Zora held her friend close, rocking her until she fell asleep - and with every tear Sarah shed, she cursed the Goblin King for a cad and a rogue, vowing to make him pay for whatever he had done to cause Sarah such anguish.

**~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~**

Jareth paced along a pathway in the room of planes, sharp footsteps echoing throughout the room. He had lost track of how long he had been in this room, walking the improbable paths, up stairs, through door ways, down ramps, forward, backward and upside down. The chaotic planes suited his mood, which was chaotic at best, and deadly at worst.

_It is not possible. I am High Fae. A High Fae with Nephilim blood is a vampire. I am not vampire, therefore Sarah's 'truth' must be wrong. That is the only reasonable explanation._

While he longed to believe that, in his heart he knew it was not the case. There was no guile in Sarah when she begged him to forgive her for knowing his truth, her fear turning his stomach as much as the truth that she delivered to him. As much as he wanted to go to Sarah and demand to know all of what she saw, he refused to go, not out of respect for her desire to have time upon her own to deal with the other things that had transpired. No, if the Goblin King were honest with himself, the real reason he didn't rush to her was far more simple.

He was afraid.

Upon their birth the midwives begged that the High King and Queen put he and his sister to death, claiming their birth was a portent of ill things to come. Nothing of the sort had happened in the five centuries since their birth, but that did not mean the midwives fears were unfounded. If he was not fully High Fae, what did that make him? And if he was indeed Nephilim as Sarah had said, that changed the potential impact of what transpired between the two of them making both of their positions within the Nether far more dangerous should the secret ever become known.

"How you turn my world, Precious Thing…" he murmured, turning and walking across the upper plane, his hair and cloak defying gravity as he stalked the causeways of the room.

Far below him, a short dwarf entered the arched doorway leading to the informal throne room, his scuffling footprints going unnoticed by the Goblin King. Clearing his throat nervously, the stout dwarf rubbed a hand over his face, dreading the fact that he must disturb the King. "Begging yer pardon, Sire… but...um...ya see...the Yannesh Vampire seeks an audience."

"I told you I am not to be disturbed!" Jareth roared, his cloak snapping upon a phantom wind that whipped around him, as his anger flared. "Get out, Higgle! And send her away."

"Yes, Sire...I...I know that's what ya said," Hoggle muttered, clutching his hat between his stubby fingers and twisting it, while he shrank back from the fury of his King. "But she said it was a matter of uh-utmost importance, as it concerns the Champion, so I 'er thought…."

Stopping mid-stride, Jareth turned his eyes to Hoggle, the pale blue icing over in concern, "Sarah… what's wrong with her?"

"I...I was not told, Sire. The Yannesh demanded to speak only with you."

Growling, Jareth began to descend the vertical stairs that dropped from the ceiling as he followed the angled path to the platform on which Hoggle stood, his footfalls echoing off the stones, until they sounded like they were coming from everywhere at once. "Send her to the formal throne room, then seal the room. I will hold her 'audience' there."

Hoggle's eyes widened at the order, "But...Sire...what about your guards…I really think..."

"You aren't paid to think, Hogspit!" Jareth bellowed, hurling a barrage of black crystals at Hoggle, who danced about flailing his arms, trying to avoid them as they shattered at his feet. "Seal. The. Blasted. Room!"

"Yes, Sire!" Hoggle gasped, bobbing his head, before turning tail and rushing from his King's presence.

Snarling, Jareth felt his form shiver and shift, until the formal regalia of the Goblin King appeared, the pitch black dragonhide armor encasing his body in a way that felt 'normal', with the golden sigil hanging in the middle of his chest. If she wanted an audience with the Goblin King, then that is exactly what she would have.

_Formalities must be respected, after all._

**~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~**

"Get your skinny ass in here, Goblin King!" Zora shouted, pacing the floor of the formal throne room, her eyes seeming to flicker rapidly between black and red in her anger. "I know you like to make an entrance, but now is not the time for that nonsense. Be a man Jareth...show yourself!"

Arching an eyebrow as he watched from a secluded archway, Jareth's lip curled in a wicked sneer. Whatever was going on with Sarah had the vampire matriarch in a dangerous mood, not that he hadn't handled Zora in similar moods in the past - usually with a firm hand and an even firmer touch.

"Now now, Yannesh Vampire...let's not forget to whom you are speaking" he drawled stepping into the room. His pale eyes narrowed upon the furious vampire, keeping her in view, while he made his way across the dais. The leather of his armor creaked quietly as he draped himself upon the seat of his throne. Tilting his head, he looked at her expectantly. "You requested an audience, regarding my Champion?"

"What did you do to Sarah?" Zora demanded, her entire posture fairly vibrating with emotion.

Jareth returned her glare with a cool look and shrugged, "What has happened between Sarah and myself is no concern of yours, vampire."

Balling her fists against her sides, Zora fought to restrain her anger, knowing that though they may be kindred, he was still the Crown Prince, and in his formal throne room, they were no doubt being watched, despite the conspicuous lack of guards, goblins and other staff. "In one day you wrecked her, Goblin King! Was it rape?"

"Is that what she said?" Jareth demanded, leaning forward, his gaze deadly as he looked at the irate vampiress.

A banshee shriek shattered the windows surrounding the throne room. In an instant Zora took off, flying toward Jareth, so fast she was a blurr. Her claws and and fangs sliced through her flesh in readiness to strike, as her blood screamed for retribution. Blindsiding him, the vampire knocked Jareth off his throne, the two of them crashing and thumping as they rolled down the stairs of the dais. Snarling and gnashing her teeth, Zora swung her hand, slashing his cheek with her razor sharp claws, leaving bleeding red lines running from his temple to throat. The scent of Fae blood rose around her, fueling the anger and hunger within her. Rolling across the floor, the two immortals struggled, roaring and growling. With an enraged roar, Jareth rolled Zora to the stones with such force that a loud crack of stone breaking resounded through the room. Driving hist knee into her throat, Jareth held a blood garnet stake over her heart, while an iron blade appeared in Zora's hand, the tip just digging into to the exposed flesh of the Goblin King's throat. Caught in their standoff of wills, both immortals shouted at once….

"She didn't rape me...I told her that! I tried to reassure her that she did nothing wrong!"

"I should have killed you when you tried to beguile her! I can't believe you'd rape her out of revenge!"

Freezing, deep sapphire eyes and glowing violet locked, as they each processed what the other had said. Seconds ticked by, the only sound being the quiet pants of the two monarchs locked in their struggle for dominance.

"There was no rape, Zora," Jareth murmured quietly, his tone softening now that he understood the problem better. "Not in the way you think." Slowly, he released the vampire, backing away from her as he flipped the stake upward, where it hung in the air for a brief moment, then vanished. Keeping an eye on Zora, Jareth rubbed his cheek with the side of his glove, not even flinching as the leather touched the bleeding gashes. Casually he licked the blood from his glove and growled at her, "You're lucky I'm feeling benevolent where my kindred are concerned, Yannesh. Others might call your behaviour just now an assassination attempt."

Eyeing him in disbelief, Zora pushed herself to sit up, the iron blade still in her hand, ignoring his threat. "What the seven veils happened last night, Jareth? Sarah is shattered...she looks haunted. But you didn't rape her or force her in any way?"

Jareth frowned and made his way back to the throne, his tone sharp, "Of course not! I may be many things and have done some horrible things in my years, but rape? Of my own Champion?!" Jareth's expression hardened, until the vampiress flinched back from the icy gaze, "After all these years, that you could think that is…" he murmured, the shook his head.

A deep ache of regret, settled within the vampire queen, surprised by the momentary glimpse of sadness in Jareth's eyes, before they hardened once more.

"Jareth...I…." she muttered, then stopped, a deep sense of unease washing over her.

With a deepening frown, the Goblin King waved a gloved hand dismissively, his words terse as he continued, "If Sarah has not told you what happened, I will not break break her confidence."

Zora's eyes widened, then her lips twisted in a suspicious frown, "What...you two are… deținătoriini now? Secret Keepers?"

"Just leave it, Zora….Please…" he added, almost as an afterthought. "This is the last time I will ask," Jareth said with a weary sigh, settling back upon the throne, a crystal appearing in his fingertips. He turned the glittering orb, using it as a mirror to inspect his cheek, before pressing the crystal to the torn flesh. Instantly, the bleeding stopped, then the bleeding lines slowly faded until there was no trace they had ever marred his ethereal face to begin with.

Snarling, Zora lept to her feet, stomping toward the dais, until a steely look from Jareth halted her in her tracks. "Fuck that, Jareth! What the hell happened? She left ready to take down an army and returned a shell of the woman she was earlier. You had something to do with this and I want to know what! And you let a Nephilim bite her? Have you lost your mind?! You know the consequences of that!"

Cringing inwardly, the Goblin King's face remained an emotionless mask, his cold eyes boring a hole in the Yannesh Vampire. "I am well aware of the potential consequences of a Nephilim biting a human, but Sarah is no mere mortal. She has magic of her own and she is kindred."

"Don't split hairs, Jareth! Did they claim her?" she hissed, slamming the iron blade back into the sheath in her boot."I assume you are going to kill the bastard. I want in on it and so will Vanya. I want the fucker dead!"

Absently rubbing the tender bite mark hidden beneath the high collar of his armor, Jareth shook his head. "It isn't that simple Zora. Just, leave it alone for now. I will deal with it. The Champion is my responsibility."

"Oh that's rich!" the vampire queen laughed bitterly, her eyes flashing red in her anger. " _Now_  you take responsibility for her safety?! After returning her Above and leaving her to fend for herself? She was a child, Jareth! A human child and you tossed her to the wolves as if she were nothing! Leaving her as prey, unprotected and unprepared to fight against those who would seek to use her against you! You've got some fucking nerve, claiming her as your responsibility now, when you couldn't be bothered to do your damn duty for her before!"

"I...what? Explain yourself, Yannesh," he ordered, his eyes flickering dangerously.

Stubbornly Zora crossed her arms over her chest and growled, "Fuck off, Goblin King. You weren't there when she needed you, why should I tell you how she managed to survive. You didn't care enough to protect her then...you don't deserve to take the easy way out and hear the story from me. _I_ held her when she was frightened and alone.  _My clan_  protected her and gave her the skills needed to survive in a world that was determined to kill her. We…  _we_  are why she is alive and why she was able to save her brother from being taken."

Before Zora could take another breath to continue her tirade, Jareth had her by the throught and slammed her against the stone wall at the back of the throne room. "WHO ATTACKED THEM? Tell me!" he roared, the very stones trembling at the sound of his voice.

Snarling, Zora spat in his face, "Go...beg  _her_  to tell you, Goblin King. Beg her to tell you the horrors that befell her before she came to us….the horrors that would have been Toby's to bear had she not seen the truth when she did. And while you're on your knees begging for the tale, you better beg for forgiveness, because if you had done your duty, she wouldn't have had to go through that! You're lucky she doesn't know you are the cause of all her misery in the first place, or she would walk away and leave you to find Anwyn on your own!"

Before Jareth could make any further demand, the Yannesh Vampire faded in a burst of red mist, leaving him alone.

Alone with his regrets...his fears...and yet more questions that needed answered - by Sarah.

**~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~**

For the rest of the day, Jareth went through the motions of governing, but his heart and mind were miles away - with his Champion...and himself.

He'd been called many things in his years, most of them uncomplimentary. He'd been accused of being many things as well. But given his parentage and looks, the one thing no one had ever accused him of being was Nephilim. It was a difficult truth to accept, particularly when in over 500 years of living, he had seen no outward sign of it, nor had he shown any indication of it.

Then there was the issue of what had happened to Sarah upon her 16th birthday. He had seen the police report that Hoggle had returned with and the gut-wrenching phrase - "the extent of the blood at the scene suggests injuries incompatible with life." The news had been so horrendous, he had turned back time to see the scene himself, and it still haunted him in the wee hours of the night. And to know that whatever had caused such damage to Sarah, even though she had survived, had sought to harm Toby as well, stirred an anger within he hadn't felt in many years.

_Why didn't she call for me? Either when she was attacked or when Toby was in danger…_

But he knew why. The answer was simple - He had played the villain too well, as he catered to her whims and expectations. As a result, he had not given her any reason to believe he would intervene on her behalf, or given her any reason to think of calling him. More than that, he had not expected her to be a target.

There had never been a runner who won their wished-away back. He expected both Williams children would return Above, just as the runners who accepted their wishes, and that they would forget her time in the Labyrinth. Yet they must have remembered, that is the only way anyone would be able to track them to the Above.

_How was I to know? If I had known I would have kept watch over them. Marked them to keep them safe._

Stalking through the inner gardens of the Labyrinth, Jareth felt the land and walls tremor faintly, responding to the disquieting thoughts that gnawed at him. He needed answers, and going to Sarah was out of the question - for the moment at least. She was fragile enough if what Zora said was true, he could not demand answers from her in that state, particularly when the truth she had shared would have an impact not only his life, but hers as well.

Before him a gnarled hedgerow, rustled and peeled back, creating a walkway for him to pass through, before curling inward again the moment he passed into the Garden of Knowledge. Pausing he looked around, fighting down the urge to call out for the one whom he wished to speak with. For several minutes he looked around the garden without success, finally stopping by the fountain in the centre and bellowing, "FAUST! Wake up old man!"

Immediately there was a squawk of consternation and a heavily accented voice clucked, "You heard him old man. Wake up! Come on… I'm not going to die just because you have one foot in the grave and want a nap. You signed up for this when you made your dirty deal."

Following the sound of the voice, Jareth rounded a hedge corner to find the ancient man slumped over upon a stone chair carved of books and scrolls. His robes were faded and brittle, like the pages of books long left upon dusty shelves. Snoring quietly, Faust ignored the words of the bird atop his hat. At the sound of Jareth's footsteps, the bird squawked in fear and began to peck at the old man's forehead. "Wake up damn you! I'll not be cursed a second time on account of you! Your new Master calls, now wake up!" Suddenly the bird stopped, a wicked smirk glinting in its large eyes. "On second thought, if you disobey one of the Old Ones, maybe they'll finally grant you final death and I can go back to being me again?"

"Don't count on it demon," Jareth snapped. "Should The Three grant Faust's request for final death, they may decide that you now know too much as well and give you your own final death."

The bird's eyes widened in terror and he began pecking furiously at the old man's face, "Frackingblastingfurckingoldmanyou'regonnagetusbothkilled!"

"Go'way," rasped the old man, attempting to swat at the frantically pecking beak, with reflexes far too slow to have any effect.

"Faust, there are nubile young virgins in the outer gardens for you to play with," purred Jareth, his pale eyes glittering wickedly as he watched the old man, snort and snuffle, straightening up immediately.

"There are?" he mumbled, his words rustling like the pages of crumbling books.

Jareth's lips curled in a disgusted frown. Sniffing in disdain, he shook his head, "All of the knowledge of the world at your fingertips for the taking, yet it is still the idea of defiling virgins that wakes you from your death-like slumber. If this is what you wanted, I fail to see why your soul was such a good bargain, but surely those that made the deal had their reasons. Why I should be saddled with the job of being your Master for eternity, I will never understand."

"Just lucky I guess," chuckled the old man, the action making him cough, each wracking spasm sending puffs of dust from his lungs. When the coughing finally died down, the man wheezed and looked up at the Goblin King through rheumy, bloodshot eyes. "So...what does His Majesty, the fearsome Goblin King want with me?"

Growling, Jareth fought down the urge to strike the old fool, knowing it would do little to help him or to hurt the infuriating cursed soul. "I need information and you, unfortunately, are the most likely source of the information that I require. So I'll make you a deal Faust…"

"A deal?" clucked the bird-hat, blinking in surprise as it bobbed on Faust's head. "Oh... he must really need this info, you blasted bag of bones. Give him what he wants and maybe we can have a vacation...yes?"

"Something like that," Jareth purred, pleased when the old man sat up straighter, and gave Jareth his attention.

"What kind of deal?" he asked, his cataract covered eyes falling warily upon the Goblin King.

"It has been at least a century since I have let you out of the the inner gardens of the Labyrinth. Should you give me the answers I need, without your usual riddles, games and utter nonsense, then I shall let you journey for a 'vacation' to the Dyad Forest... "

The old man gave a sniff and shrugged, "Oh… is that all?"

"... during the spring," Jareth continued, a devious grin curling his lips.

Faust's eyes shot wide as he looked at the Goblin King. "Spring?"

"Yes. Give me what I want and I will ensure that you and your demon caretaker get a week in the Dyad Grove, during their mating cycle. You can fuck any dyad you can catch old man, and unlike the runners and other denizens of my Labyrinth, they are fair game and won't complain of your particular sexual… interests." Jareth let his offer sink in a moment, watching as the demon and the old man whispered to each other. "The clock is ticking, Faust. I need an answer."

"Hmmm… yes…. You have a bargain, Goblin King," rasped the old man, stroking his beard thoughtfully, a leer tickling his lips at the thought of the fun he might have in the Dyad Grove.

"Just remember old man, you struck a bargain - I need information. No tricks. No riddles. None of your ridiculous nonsense that you feed to runners and anyone else who crosses your path. Do any of those things and I'll see that you don't leave this garden until I choose to cross the veil," Jareth hissed.

Gulping, the bird-demon, pecked Faust sharply in the ear. "Don't piss him off, ya old fart. I want a vacation!"

The old man swatted at the demon, with surprising speed given his advanced age, managing to land his fist into the bird-hat's beak. "Will you  _please_  be quiet!" Looking at the Goblin King, Faust nodded. "What information is it that you require, immortal?"

"Is there any record of how a High Fae could also be Nephilim?" Jareth asked, his expression neutral and emotionless.

"Hmm…." muttered the old man, twisting his filthy beard through his fingers, as puffs of dust flew from the matted hair. "Hmmm….yesssssss….it's been so long since anyone has approached me with a question worthy of my mind and the knowledge I possess."

"Don't start with the circular speech, old man," Jareth snapped in warning, his tone and bearing making the demon flinch and frantically peck at the old man's shoulders and cheeks.

"Just answer already...you know the answer. You know all the answers! Get on with it! Get on with it! Remember the dyads!" he squawked.

"There are no recorded histories of High Fae who are also Nephilim, only mention of half-breeds who, as you know, must by their nature be Vampires," Faust muttered, then tapped his chin. "However… outside of the books, I have heard of an ancient High Fae who did appear at times to be Nephilim, while appearing for the most part as High Fae. I know not the details, as that was well before I made my deal. I know only that his power was great since he could draw from both bloodlines. He was the most powerful being of the Nether and the father of both Sidhe and Dark Sidhe. To be both...that would be, a blessing… or a terrible curse, should the Nephilim side be unleashed in the wrong way against the wrong person."

Jareth felt his heart sink, struggling to understand what this might mean for himself...and Sarah.

"And should one with such an 'affliction' bite a mortal during…"

"Coitus?" asked the old pervert, perking up at the thought of demonic sexual activity. "Well, Nephilim are notorious biters when aroused, so biting in and of itself is not a problem. However, should the Nephilim in question feel possessive toward the mortal they are biting, and if the mortal were to consent to the bite, or return it, then… the human would become the bound property of the Nephilim...forever." Shrugging, the old man coughed, a puff of dust rising above his head before falling like rain over himself and Jareth's boots. "It's not a marriage… but it's as close as any Nephilim likes to get to 'commitment'."

Ice settled in Jareth's veins at the old man's words. It was not as bad as he had feared it might be - it was far, far worse.

"Thank you," he drawled, tossing a crystal toward the old man. The moment the crystal landed upon the arm of the chair, a stone hour-glass appeared, fine golden grains of sand dribbling from the top to the bottom. "When the sands turn green and the last green shall fall into the bottom of the glass, you will be taken to the Dyad Grove for one Underground week, then at midnight on the 7th day, you will be returned to your garden, never to leave it again."

With his parting words still ringing from the stones, Jareth turned heel and stalked from the Garden of Knowledge, as the demon screamed and berated Faust for his stupidity in making a deal with an immortal.

"You idiot! All the knowledge in the world and you made a deal with an immortal without seeking confirmation of the parameters! And they think  _I'm_  the stupid one! Hah!"

Ignoring the screaming of the demon as it faded into the distance, Jareth's lips pulled into a terse line, his thoughts turning inward.

_Sarah would sooner kill me than live with the fact that she will forever be linked to me and will now live as long as I do….but I have to tell her, before she sees the truth for herself. It is the only way._

"Still turning my world, Sarah," he muttered, turning through the secret door that would lead him directly to the castle. "Unfortunately, this time I must turn yours as well. I only hope you will someday forgive me."

* * *

**CREATIVE DECISIONS AND JUSTIFICATIONS**

1\. Faust - The wise man has no name in canon. I like the idea of him being Faust, who sold his soul for all knowledge and worldly pleasures. He's a perverted old man and unfortunately for Jareth, he's stuck with him. As per the previous chapter, the only 'proof' that will accepted for changing this will be if I hear it from Jareth himself. I rather enjoyed writing Faust into this chapter, so expect him to show up again sometime.

 

As always, please review... more action, angry Goblin King advances and snogging in the next chapter. :)


	9. Lost and Found

Slipping through the portal that would lead him to Manhattan, Jareth cringed and flipped the collar of his heavy wool dress coat up high around his ears. The moment he set foot in the alleyway Above, bitter winds howled around him, tugging at his hair and stinging his face; icy and fierce in their biting fury. His heavy coat blocked the worst of the whistling wind that screamed down the streets between the skyscrapers. Head down, he trudged out of the alley and into the flow of pedestrians rushing through the deepening gloom of twilight. With his scarf pulled up to his ears, and his Fae nature glamoured enough to appear more 'normal' by human standards, he looked like many other New Yorker; the only thing that set him apart from the bustling masses jostling for walking space on the sidewalk was the flowers he carried in his hand, delicate blooms that grew in no soil of this realm, protected by layer upon layer of tissue paper.

Flowers.

It was an impulsive decision and one that Jareth himself was still puzzled by. He was known to be mercurial, demanding and cruel. When it came to the fairer sex, pursuit was more of a game than anything he seriously worked at - and why would he? In all his years he never needed to pursue a female, they came to him willingly. So did males, for that matter. Yet when he ran across a wild bunch of Durogan ice lilies growing in the cracks near a water sprite's fountain, while winding his way through the Labyrinth gardens on his return to the castle, he impulsively picked them with the sole thought of taking them to Sarah.

Although flowers were used as decoration in the Nether, they were not considered a suitable gift, which only fueled his confusion over the sudden and uncharacteristic decision to bring them to Sarah.

_This is a silly Aboveground courting tradition. I'm not trying to court her. Gadwyn's beard! The damage is done, she's already bound to me, even if she doesn't know it...so what am I doing?_

As if the flower's weren't enough, in his pocket he carried a special gift that he created specifically for her - again, on impulse. Balancing the cheerful pink bakery box in the hand that carried the flowers, Jareth shoved his other hand into his pocket to ensure the gift was safe. It would be useless for anyone other than Sarah, as was the case with all magic, intent was everything, and this gift was intended for only one person.

_I'm around her less than 24 hours after 8 mortal years and I've gone soft. Hell's Bells! If word of this ever gets out, I'll have chaos on my hands in the kingdom. I'm not courting her….just… ensuring her safety. That's all. Nothing more. If what Faust says and Sarah saw are correct, then it is my right...my duty...to ensure she is safe. This is just…_

"Frustrating," he grumbled as he came to a stop in front of Sarah's building.

Above him loomed the sleek black mirrored windows and dark stone of Sarah's building. His silver-blue eyes closely examining the unassuming edifice, before spotting the faintest of magical signatures upon the finger plate that allowed the residents entry to the building. Tugging his leather glove from his hand, he lightly placed his fingertips on the plate; a faint shiver of magic caressing them briefly, like a lover's kiss. Then a muted 'clack' sounded from the door handle. Grasping it, Jareth entered the building and immediately swallowed a growl at the sight of Ian, the Daywalker, sitting at the guard desk.

"You back, 'eh?" Ian asked, peering at the tall Fae over the top of his newspaper. Giving the paper a sharp snap, he drawled," And what brings you by tonight? Shouldn't your kind be hanging out at Mama Khun's or something?"

"I've come to visit Saralynne," Jareth replied coolly, walking toward the elevator. he did everything in his power to ignore the annoying presence of the Daywalker.

"Not so fast there, mate. There's a guard on this building for a reason."

Turning, Jareth glared at the guard, his patience wearing thin. The Daywalker took his time folding up his newspaper, before standing up and looking Jareth up and down,as if sizing him up.

"Only residents are allowed upstairs. All guests must be buzzed in by me…"

"So buzz me in," Jareth demanded through clenched teeth, the very sight of the Daywalker making Jareth's magic buzz beneath his skin, longing to lash out.

Ian shook his head, his grin suggesting that he was taking great pleasure in toying with Jareth's time. Crossing his arms over his chest, his eyes narrowed in challenge. "No can do, mate. I've gotta have permission from the people in the flat you are visiting, that they even  _want_  you to be let into the building."

"I could merely transport up to her door," Jareth hissed, forcing himself to relax lest he crush the stems of the flowers he was carrying.

Ian laughed, shaking his head. "You could try, but knowing Saralynne, her hall is probably booby-trapped for just that sort of thing. So really, unless you want to risk whatever whacked out security measure she and the owner have put in place, I wouldn't suggest it. But...it's your funeral."

Jareth took a deep breath, his words delivered with deadly calm, despite the desire to offer "Then why don't you call up and ask if she will see me."

Smirking at Jareth, Ian sucked on his fangs, the sound infuriating the Goblin King further. "Well...I  _could_  do that, but there's just one small problem…"

"And what might that be?" Jareth growled, his patience rapidly running out.

"Sarah's not here. She hasn't been home in two days," Ian said smugly, then added, "Not that her being away from home for days at a time is unusual."

Jareth frowned, grabbing the calendar on the desk and looking at it. A hollow feeling settled in the pit of his stomach as he checked the numbers on the small black book.

_Tuesday… How is it Tuesday? I sent her back on Saturday?_

Cursing the difference in time flow between the Nether and the Above, Jareth glared at Ian. In a flash he had the Daywalker by the throat, his pale eyes flickering to deep red as an ethereal snarl rippled in the air around them, the very sound carrying power seldom felt in the primarily vampire building. Ian gasped, his hands scrabbling uselessly at Jareth's wrist, as Jareth lifted him up, until his feet were barely touching the floor.

"I want in that apartment, Daywalker," Jareth hissed, his eyes darkening. "So unless you want to find out what it is like to be bricked into a coffin and buried in the Durogan Ice Caves for a century, you will get on the phone and either get me whomever is taking care of Tobias, or get me Vanya," he snarled, then dropped Ian to the floor.

The Daywalker hit the floor so hard he fell against the desk, the loud thud of his head meeting the wood echoing across the marble lobby. Wheezing and rubbing his throat, but surprisingly not arguing, Ian grabbed the phone and dialed a number. "Um...yeah...this is Ian on the desk." Ian rubbed the back of his neck, keeping one eye on Jareth as he talked into the phone, "I've got a High Fae down here to see Saralynne." He paused a moment, then frowned, eyeing Jareth warily. "You sure? She didn't leave any instructions for visitors…. Yeah… okay. I'll let him up."

Still frowning, Ian hung up the phone and nodded toward the elevators, torn between distrusting the High Fae and relief at getting him out of the lobby. "I'll unlock them for you. Check out with me or whoever is on the desk when you leave."

Ignoring the Daywalker, Jareth swept to the elevators and boarded the moment the door slid open. When the door closed again, he jabbed the button with far more force than necessary, tension rising within him. He had thought it would only be Sunday, but to find that it was now Tuesday evening and Sarah had not been seen since Sunday, was disturbing him on a level he did not expect. Magic flared within him, demanding to be set free, burning within him. Absently he pulled a crystal from the air, rolling it over the back of his hand thoughtfully.

_If what Sarah and Faust say are true, then surely I should be able to scry for her as she would be bound to me._

Jareth held the crystal upward, letting her name fill his mind. Within the crystal he saw her image briefly, her brow furrowed in thought, before she scribbled notes on a small notepad. A moment later the crystal filled with swirling black mist, that pulsed with a strange purple light. Frowning, he looked at it, wondering at the rhythmic flashes.

_Her heartbeat perhaps? Why can I see her heartbeat but cannot see her for more than a brief moment. That is something, I suppose. For the moment, proof of life will have to be sufficient._

_**~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~** _

"Come on, Dashana...Sarah isn't home. Why do I hafta eat them?" Toby whined, poking at his plate with a frown.

The slender woman sitting next to him, laughed, the sound soft and warm, as she tapped a golden fingernail on the placemat next to his plate. "You eat them because I said to and your sister insists that you have a vegetable with your dinner."

"But I hate brussel sprouts," Toby muttered darkly, jabbing at the dark green leafy lumps. "Sarah won't know if you don't tell her."

A sharp knocking at the door interrupted them, the sound far more brusque than those those used by their neighbors. "Nice try. Now eat them. And if you feed them to VanRijin again, I'll know… we'll all know in a few hours when he is trying to gas us out of the flat," Dashana replied, still smiling, even as her hand fell to the blade strapped along her ribs. "Now, be quiet. I must deal with whomever is at the door."

The ebony skinned woman walked swiftly up the hall, her cloven hooves making no sound upon the parquet tiles. Pausing silently at the end of the foyer, she ran a single fingertip over the golden glass hanging upon the back of the thick metal fire-door. Instantly the glass shimmered, allowing her a clear view of the person seeking entry - and her heart sank.

When she took her position as a nanny and teacher for Toby, the first thing Sarah informed her was that she expected a blood oath not only to protect Toby from any being Above or Below that sought to harm him, but a specific vow of protection where the Goblin King was concerned. Sarah didn't give details, and Dashana didn't ask for any. Although the request seemed odd, if Sarah wanted to keep her existence and that of her brother a secret from the Goblin King, that was Sarah's business. In hindsight, vowing to protect the knowledge of them from the king she had sworn loyalty to, was a risky move. At the time she reasoned that the likelihood of ever running into her King while fulfilling the duties of her job were slim, if not completely improbable.

As it turned out, her one-in-a-million probability was now standing on the other side of Sarah's door.

Even glamoured as a mortal, there was no mistaking the Goblin King, both in the distinctive markings that set him apart as High Fae, but also in the air of unquestionable authority that poured from him with every breath. She watched as he raised a hand and rapped loudly on the door again, the set of his jaw indicating that his patience was wearing thin - not that he was known for being overly patient to begin with. Steeling herself, Dashana opened the door, dipping in a brief curtsey, as she bowed her head.

"Good evening, Your Majesty," she murmured.

If Jareth was surprised at seeing an O'leathian warrior greeting him at Sarah's door, he hid it well. His pale eyes narrowed as he examined the woman. She was clothed in a sleek golden dress, that clung to her curves, her simple clothing doing little to hide the heavy blades strapped to her ribs. He knew that the simple dress was deceptive, as it allowed her ample movement to defend herself and others. O'leathians by their nature were gentle people, beautiful in their exotic nature, but lethal when roused. Her skin was deep ebony, glistening with a faint golden sheen, almost as if she were oiled. Stark white hair hung down the sides of her head in two long plaits, while a pair of golden horns curled upward from her forehead, sweeping back toward her crown before stopping in sharp points. While the horns were a surprise, her most striking feature was her sparkling amber eyes, glittered with a different range of orange and red with every blink.

"Good evening. I'm looking for the Finder. Is she in?" he asked, smiling warmly at her acknowledgement of his status.

Dashana swallowed and returned the smile, her loyalty to her king and to her employer at war within her. She was under oath not to lie to her king, but also never to divulge the existence of Sarah and Toby - although technically he had not asked for either, so she could answer honestly without violating either oath.

"No, she is unavailable at the moment, Sire. I could take a message if you wish."

The Goblin King's eyes glimmered darkly for a moment, as his lips pulled into a tight line. "I would rather not discuss my private business with her in the hall. Could I come in?"

Dashana's heart thudded within her, the knowledge that there would be no good reply to his request making her blood run cold through her veins. "Well… I…" she stammered, becoming distracted by a sleek furry body rubbing against her ankle, the sound of purring rising to her ears. Glancing down at VanRijin, Dashana, gulped and opened her mouth to answer her king, only to snap her jaw shut at VanRijin's words.

"Back again, Goblin King? And you brought her flowers?" he laughed, his whiskers bobbing in amusement. "If you intend to court your way into Sarah's bed, forget it. There's only room for one immortal in her bed, and  _that_  is me," the cat hissed, as he twined his way around Dashana's ankles.

"I have not come courting, you flea-bitten feline," Jareth growled, fighting the urge to kick the blasted cat or bog him, but knowing that the wards he had placed upon Sarah's flat protected all occupants from harm - even from himself. "And somehow I doubt that Sarah particularly likes a useless, cursed wizard in her bed."

The cat chuckled, rubbing himself against Dashana's hooves. "Notice how he doesn't deny seeking her bed. She's had offers from better than you, Goblin King."

Feeling a sudden surge of magic pulse around the Goblin King, Dashana nudged VanRijin away. "Shush, cat! You mustn't speak so of Sarah, it's unseemly in private, let alone in the presence of His Majesty. And for that matter you shouldn't be so rude to him, he's a king."

"Yeah, well it isn't like he could curse me further? I'm already a cat for eternity," grumbled the feline, then stalked back up the hall toward the dining room, his tail twitching in the air with every step.

"I'm sorry, Sire. There is really no excuse for him," Dashana sighed, still holding the door half-open.

"He has a point, he's already a cat. There isn't much else I could do to him, short of bogging him and I suspect Sarah might object to that," Jareth shrugged. "May I come in?"

Dashana caressed the inside of her wrist, debating her options. He clearly knew of Sarah, but as yet did not seem to know of Toby. She could still fulfill at least part of her oath to Sarah, without lying to her king. "Well...I...I'm not supposed to let people into the flat without…."

Reaching out, Jareth's gloved fingers clasped her hand, the firm pressure of his fingers sending a pulse of magic through her that was undeniable. Dashana's training and her loyalty to the Goblin King raged within her, demanding both that she submit to his inspection and resist it. In the end, self-preservation won out. While Sarah may have given her a job and a chance to live in the Above, the Goblin King had given her clan a home, and a kingdom in which to belong - her life belonged to him. She watched silently as he pulled her arm toward him and turned it over, his pale eyes locking upon the mark on her wrist. Tiny though it was, the small scar held a great deal of significance, a significance the Goblin King clearly understood. When his thumb brushed over the mark of her blood oath, Dashana shivered, her amber eyes widening as she looked at him, panic rising within her, until it threatened to suck the very breath from her lungs.

"A blood oath to Sarah," he purred, his smile doing little to hide the seriousness of his words. "Why am I not surprised? She has something of a habit when it comes to convincing my subjects to collude against me."

"I...we… there was no collu…" Dashana stammered, her words tumbling over each other as she tried to pull her wrist free.

Jareth's fingers tightened around the slender wrist, his tone at odds with the firm grip. "Let me guess. She made you swear never to reveal her existence to me, hmm? And knowing our dear Sarah, I am guessing that oath extended to her brother as well," he chuckled, shaking his head as he released her arm. "She is clever, I'll give her that. Although I am unsure why she thought I was a big enough threat, as to exact a blood oath from you. I will deal with her soon about that little matter. For now, just rest assured I mean Sarah and Toby no ill-will. In fact, I intend to do more to further protect them, so your oath is rendered null and void, by edict of your king."

Dashana's head dropped, no longer able to bear the knowing look upon her king's face. "Yes, Sire."

"Now then, as the blasted cat stated, I was here on Friday. I know this is Sarah's home and that of her brother. If she is not home, then I would like to speak to her brother. It is rather an urgent matter. So, I will ask once more, before I make it an order….May I come in?"

With a grace borne of years of rigorous training, Dashana stepped aside, her movements sleek, yet careful. Accepting her acknowledgement of his status, Jareth slipped into the apartment, waiting nearby as she shut the door. The woman sealed the various mortal locks, then triggered the wards he had placed upon it three days prior, the door glowing blue for a brief moment before settling once more.

"This way, Sire. Tobias is having dinner," she said quietly as she started down the hall.

As he followed her, Jareth could not help but admire her bearing, regal and sure, but deadly when required. Her thick tail curved gently from under the hem of her long dress, while her cloven feet made no sound despite the hardwood floors of the entryway and hall.

The moment they entered the dining room, Toby looked up from his dinner, grinning broadly. "Hi Jareth… didya come for dinner? Dashana is a great cook… except when she makes me eat brussel sprouts," he said, poking at the dark green leafy objects on his plate. "But Sarah makes her do it."

"Tobias, address His Majesty properly!" Dashana gasped, scolding the child, then giving Jareth an apologetic look. "I am sorry, Sire...had I known it would be likely he would ever meet any royalty other than the Volyenko's, I would have taught him better. He is kindred and not required to behave formally."

"Sire?" snorted Toby, flipping one of the brussel sprouts onto the floor for VanRijin, who devoured it with loud smacking sounds. "What're you talking about?"

Dashana frowned, hissing at the boy, "Shush, Toby. You are being rude." Smiling at Jareth, she gestured toward a chair, "Would you care for some dinner, Sire? There is plenty and we would be honoured to have you dine with us." Her melodic voice was gentle, although Jareth knew that she would be a formidable foe should anyone seek to harm her charge.

"No thank you, Dashana." Jareth laughed softly, watching Toby flick another of the green leafy objects onto the floor for the cat. "And his way of addressing me is fine. Tobias and I are old acquaintances. I am happy to be treated informally by him within these walls. Although, if you are in charge of seeing to his education outside of the mortal realm, I would strongly suggest you ensure he is taught how to behave as a member of the court."

Dashana's amber eyes glowed briefly in confusion. "The court, Sire? But...he is mortal. My job is to keep him safe when Sarah is unavailable."

Jareth's penetrating gaze fell upon the nanny, his tone firm, "On another occasion we will speak further regarding what he will need to know. Just take it as an order from me, he is to be taught how to behave himself at court, and all that entails. You are Dravish and O'leathian, are you not?"

Dashana glanced at the floor at the stern words from her king, a faint golden glow suffusing her dark cheeks. "I am, Sire."

Tilting his head, he observed her for a quiet moment, then nodded, "The why's of your parentage are not my concern, outcast elven warriors have been finding company with the O'leathian for centuries within the borders of my Kingdom. You have been trained in both Elven and demonic fighting styles?" he asked, his tone hard, but not unkind. Seeing her nod, he smiled, "We shall speak soon about the other skills I wish the boy to learn. You will be an ideal teacher for him."

"Thank you, Sire...But Sarah does not…." she replied, falling silent when the Goblin King raised his hand and shook his head, his air of authority flaring until it was almost tangible.

"I will speak with Sarah. All you need to know for the moment, is that the circumstances under which Sarah and Toby live have changed. Toby's protection and education are of the utmost importance and I will remain personally involved in both."

Gawking, Toby's grin widened. "Ohh… Can you convince Sarah to let me learn sword fighting? She says I'm too young and that I can only learn martial arts and simple things now."

Quietly, Jareth chuckled as he sat in the chair next to the boy, laying the flowers upon the table. "You are old enough to learn, Toby. Bladed weapons mesh well with martial arts. I will speak to your sister. But first, I need to know where she is."

Poking at another brussel sprout, Toby shrugged. "Dunno. She wasn't here when we got home Sunday. She didn't even leave a note this time. Last time she did that, she was gone for two months," he muttered, a hint of despondence creeping into his voice. Toby put his fork down and peered sideways at Jareth, as if he wanted to say more, before hanging his head.

A strange pang pulled at Jareth's heart, seeing the sadness in the boys eyes. Reaching over, he gently placed his hand upon Toby's shoulder, his words quiet, "Toby, you can tell me anything and it will remain here, between the three of us. I am your friend, as well as your sister's." Missing, Dashana's look of surprise, Jareth gave the lad a reassuring smile, "You can always speak to me, whether Sarah is home or not, simply call for me and I will come."

Shrinking deeper into his chair, Toby sniffed, then muttered, his words faint, "I get scared when she doesn't leave messages. What if she doesn't come back? Who will take care of me?"

Without thinking about it, Jareth pulled the young boy into his lap, wrapping his arm warmly around him and holding him close. The strange feeling in his chest seemed to grow warm, until he felt the heat spreading through him, a sensation he rarely remembered except when caring for the most wretched and needy of the children wished away to him - yet Toby was neither wretched nor abandoned. Wondering at the strange feeling, Jareth looked in the boy's eyes, his words soft but sincere.

"I promise you this, Toby… should anything happen to Sarah, there will always be someone strong to look after you. Whether myself, Vanya or Zora, we will take you in and care for you. You do not ever need to fear being alone in this world - I simply will not allow that happen." Smiling, Jareth watched Toby sniff and scrub at his eyes with the sleeve of his sweater. "I've brought a gift for your dessert, Toby. It is in the kitchen. Why don't you go enjoy it while Dashana and I have a little talk?"

Perking up, Toby grinned, then in the next instant a frown tugged at his lips. He eyed Jareth suspiciously, his brown eyes thoughtful. "Wait a second. Sarah said I was never to eat Fae food, that it was a trick. She said it was 'specially bad if it had anything to do with the Goblin King." His eyes widening in realization, Toby scrambled from Jareth's lap, to hide behind Dashana. "You're him, aren't you? You're the Goblin King!"

"I am, Toby. But I assure you, neither yourself nor Sarah have anything to fear from me. You are kindred to the Volyenkos, so you are kindred to me as well," Jareth chuckled, seeing the way the child was torn between his suspicion and the desire to taste the treat. "And the treat in the kitchen is not Fae food. It is from a bakery up the street. Sarah told me that you like their brownies."

Toby relaxed at that, his expression still wary. "So...if you didn't conjure it...but you brought it, does it still count as Fairy food?" he asked, looking at Jareth, then at Dashana, whom he clearly trusted more than the Goblin King.

Amused by the boy's reaction, Jareth smiled as the nanny patted the child's cheek. "The food is safe, Tobias. Go have your treat then it is time for your bath before bed," she said.

Still casting suspicious glances over his shoulder at Jareth, Toby trotted toward the kitchen, with the cursed cat following on his heels, muttering darkly about High Fae tricks and shenanigans.

Jareth frowned, his attention falling to Dashana as she began to pick up Toby's half-eaten dinner..

"Does Sarah often leave with no explanation?"

"Sometimes, Sire. Usually she leaves some sort of message to let us know when to expect her back, so we know when to contact the Volyenko's should she fail to return or contact us by the appointed time. If she leaves no word, it is usually because she is on a special case," the nanny replied.

Rising, Jareth took off his coat and draped it over the back of the chair. "I wish to see where she works. Does she have a study?" he asked, his words clearly a demand rather than a mere question.

Dashana nodded, gesturing toward the door, "Yes, down the hall, third door on the left." Picking up the flowers, she added smiled, "T'shara lilies? Lovely. Shall I put these in water, Sire?"

"Yes. When you have finished, contact Vanya and Zora. I wish to speak to them urgently," Jareth replied, then turned and left the dining room.

Entering Sarah's study, Jareth quickly scanned the room. A desk sat several feet from the back wall, allowing Sarah to see the door at all times, while having the ability to exit via the window and a portal hidden behind a tapestry on the wall, should she need an escape route. Nodding his approval of her positioning, Jareth moved slowly about the room, scanning the various items she kept nearby for her work. Bookshelves lined one wall, filled to the brim with books and papers, yet there was order to them. Moving closer, he saw that the first set of shelves were filled with reference books on just about any magical or supernatural topic one could need in Sarah's line of work. The second bookshelf was filled with what appeared to be fictional accounts of mythic, legendary and supernatural beings.

_Clever girl… even fiction often has a seed of truth buried within it._

Jareth ran his fingertips lightly over the papers on her desk, noting the precise loops of her handwriting, the densely packed script flowing across the leaves of the spiral notebook lying next to her computer. His lips pulled into a thoughtful line as he skimmed the notes she had jotted down, most of which had to do with research on mortal 'party drugs' whatever those were, and several questions regarding Halean Weed use at High Fae sex-based functions. A question circled several times in red ink drew his eyes, a frown creasing his forehead:

_**High Fae virility and mortal preventatives. Does the pill prevent? Who would know? Inara? Plan B? Nephilim? Does it change things?** _

His frown deepened as he read her words over.

_Blast it all. I've been so worked up over my own truth and the possibility of a claim, I didn't consider any other effect this might have. It's bad enough she feels she violated me, but if she should conceive…. No… I'll deal with that once Sarah and Anwynn have been found….rather,_ _**we** _ _will deal with it._

Growling, Jareth pushed the thought from his mind, nudging the mouse on the computer. The screen flashed to life, revealing the log-in for Sarah's email account. For a brief moment he considered using magic to gain access, then sighed. Unless he was sure she was in danger, he would not stoop to such tactics - even the Goblin King had a certain code of ethics. While a claim upon her would give him the right to do as he felt necessary to ensure her protection, her belief that he held no power over her held him at bay. It was no longer true of course, he did have power over her, but what he  _could_  do and what he  _would_  do were two vastly different things where Sarah Williams was now concerned.

"You've got some nerve being snooping around in here," Vanya snapped from the doorway, his dark eyes flickering as he watched the Goblin King.

"And you've got some nerve speaking to me in that way vampire," Jareth drawled, flipping through a stack of papers on Sarah's desk. "Is your sister with you?" he asked, his attention still on the desk.

Huffing at being ignored, Vanya growled, "Zora has been held up at home. She told me to tell you to fuck off, she is not your beck and call girl."

Jareth glanced briefly at Vanya, his pale eyes darkening in his irritation. "Have either of you seen Sarah?"

"You mean before or after you sent her back looking like a husk of the warrior she is?" Vanya hissed, moving further into the room. He casually ran his fingers over a Fairy steel blade sitting upon a mount on the bookcase, before glaring at Jareth. "What did you do Jareth? Zora won't tell me and I didn't speak to Sarah. Did you force her?"

"Have you seen her?" the Goblin King ground out through clenched teeth, his patience with the vampire wearing thin.

"Why should I tell you?"

The sound of Jareth's fist hitting Sarah's desk shook the walls of the study, an angry snarl rumbling around the room. "Listen boy, I don't have time to play games with you. If this weren't urgent, I'd have no qualms about giving you the seeing to you so clearly need, and putting you back in your place!"

"Hah! And where would that be Jar…."

The last of Jareth's name died upon Vanya's lips. Before he could utter it, he found himself thrust to his knees at Jareth's boots, a firm hand twisted painfully in his hair, forcing his head downward. "You  _belong_  on your knees before your King and Master, boy...and you know it! Now tell me… where...is...Sarah?!" Jareth hissed, a flare of power engulfing himself and Vanya, until the air around them rippled, sizzling with unspent magic begging to be released.

Vanya gave a strangled moan, the force of his need responding to Jareth's power; shame filling him as his cock immediately hardened.

"I...I don't know. Zora saw her before she visited you. Then Sarah was gone before she spoke to either of us again. I swear it," he groaned, then grunted when Jareth shoved him roughly to the floor, firmly stepping on the back of the vampire's neck and pinning him down.

"I've got a task for you then, boy...to make up for your insolence, until I have the time to punish you properly," Jareth growled, grinding his heel into Vanya's neck, relishing the sound of pained pleasure from the vampire under his boot. "I must leave, but I am concerned for Toby's safety. It would seem someone is preying upon those from the Nether who traverse this world. Toby is not born of our world, but the people doing this are stupid enough they might think that he is given the company he keeps. I want you to remain here and protect him. The boy is not to leave this flat for  _any_  reason until myself or Sarah return." Digging his heel into Vanya's neck, Jareth pressed the vampire's cheek firmly to the floor. "Have I made myself abundantly clear, my  _pet_?"

"Yes… Master…" Vanya moaned, surreptitiously arching his hips to rub himself against the floor.

Frowning, Jareth kicked Vanya sharply in the shoulder, hard enough that the vampire rolled onto his back, his eyes dark with desire. Waving a hand dismissively at Vanya's visible erection, encased within his tight trousers, Jareth snapped, "Get rid of that before you join Toby and Dashana. I won't have you embarrassing me."

Vanya sat up, wincing as he tried to adjust himself comfortably, but nodded, his fingers caressing the scar upon his throat. "Jareth… when...do you think….?" he murmured, then fell silent at the steely look from Jareth.

"I know what you need of me, Vanya. Things are...complicated. Let me deal with the issues that have come up and we shall see." Seeing the crestfallen look on Vanya's face, Jareth reached down, grasping his hand and pulling him to his feet.

"What are…" Vanya mumbled, only to be silenced by a ruthless kiss.

Jareth fisted one hand in Vanya's hair, tugging his head back hard enough to make the vampire gasp, while his other cupped his erection firmly, Jareth's sharp nails digging in painfully, as his tongue tasted deeply of the silken depths, through Vanya's parted lips. Vanya whined, submitting to the punishing kiss, while Jareth nipped his lips and tongue. Feeling the vampire lean into the kiss, Jareth growled, the sound reverberating around the two immortals, then thrust Vanya back to his knees.

"I know what you need. I always know. But things have changed. We'll see...that is the best I can offer." Jareth turned for the door, before pausing and giving Vanya a stony look. "Keep my boy safe."

Still out of breath from the fierce kiss, Vanya's eyes narrowed in a frown. "Your boy? Why is Toby so important all of a sudden?"

"Once upon a time, a stubborn, willful and unpredictable young woman wished her baby brother away to me. He was a lively little chap and I took a shine to him. I planned to name him my heir the moment his sister failed to reach the castle. Only she surprised me. She surprised everyone and won him back," Jareth replied, his words hinting of a far away memory, a haunting moment of remorse. "Had I known he...and his sister...would need protection, I would have provided it all along. But the Fates are fickle, and I did not know." His pale eyes glittered maliciously at Vanya, making the vampire cringe inwardly and shrink back. "As the Fates would have it, they have both fallen back within my power, and I  _will_ protect them. Now do as you are bid, Vanya. Protect my boy. Remember this - any harm that befalls him under your care will carved out of your hide and I promise you, there will be no pleasure...only pain."

Vanya shivered in spite of himself, at the level of malovance in Jareth's words, as the Goblin King swept from the room.

_**~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~** _

The street lights across from Grosvenor Apartments streamed into Anwyn's apartment, illuminating the dingy furnishings enough to let Sarah continue examining things. As much as she needed to explore the flat and Anwyn's belongings for clues, Sarah gave the bathroom a wide berth; each time she looked at it she had flashbacks of a man with a needle plunging it into Jareth's neck.

_Jareth is okay. I'm okay. We're both okay. Everything that happened after that was just...business. That's all._

Forcing her thoughts back to the present, Sarah looked around. She shut her eyes and reached out with her senses as much as she dared, without fully invoking her own magic. With no sign of a struggle, Anwyn must have been taken elsewhere, the question was when. It was the timeline that was a problem. Finding a calendar on the small desk, Sarah picked it up and sat on the questionable vinyl arm chair, flipping through the pages. Like Sarah, Anwyn's notes were cryptic combinations of phrases, with seemingly no logic to them - even for someone like Sarah who was somewhat gifted when it came to word puzzles. Frowning she flicked through the pages quickly, letting random phrases jump out at her.

"Steven…" she murmured, pressing the calendar open on the small table, her verdant eyes studying the name scrawled in tiny box for February 14.

Sarah thumbed through the pages further, noting a number of boxes containing a tiny purple 'S' followed by a time, but rarely a place. The idea that Anwyn's boyfriend was the one who sold her out to this 'club' made Sarah's stomach churn.

"He better hope I find him before Jareth does, or there won't be enough of him to bury," she frowned, tapping a painted nail upon the page as her mind whirled over what little she had been able to glean from the calendar and her investigations over the last 48 hours.

A sudden jolt of magic sizzled down her spine, as the spell she placed on the door triggered. In an instant, she was on her feet, turning and hurling a blood ruby encrusted iron blade in one fluid motion, toward the door of the flat as it opened. Her mouth opened in a soundless shriek at the sight of white-blonde hair and the ethereal arched eyebrows of the Goblin King. Waving her hand, she squeaked.

Wide-green eyes met steely grey as Sarah and Jareth stared at each other - the poisoned iron blade hanging in an ice crystal mere millimeters from Jareth's chest, while a shimmering red crystal hung in the air in front of Sarah's nose.

Gulping Sarah stepped to the side, then waved her hand once more, the iron blade returning to her hand, as the ice crystal vanished.

The Goblin King growled, his eyes flashing darkly in his anger, "I could have  _killed_  you, Sarah!" Snapping his fingers, the red crystal evaporated, leaving no trace it had ever existed.

"Jareth! What are you doing here?" Sarah snapped, the irritable tone in her voice doing little to mask the terror still flooding through her at the realization that she had been mere milliseconds away from poisoning the Crown Prince.

"Looking for you! No one knew where you were, Sarah!" he snarled, stepping into the flat and locking the door behind him. His nose wrinkled in disgust as he peered around, still marveling that his sister would live in such a hovel in the first place.

"I've been hanging out in strip clubs having a grand old time," Sarah grumbled, tucking the blade back into its sheath at her hip. "What do you think I've been doing, you ass?! I've been investigating. You want Anwyn back don't you?"

Jareth's eyebrows furrowed steeply, as his jaw clenched tight. "Of course I do," he hissed, stalking toward her, the hum of magic swelling around him with each step.

Nibbling her lower lip, Sarah took a step back as he advanced, her eyes scanning the room for escape routes, but knowing deep down, there was no escape from the Goblin King - There never would be an escape while ever she knew his secret.

"You...you shouldn't be here. It's dangerous for magic users," she muttered, avoiding his intense gaze, as she took another step back.

"And what about you? Aren't you a magic user?" he asked, his words clipped and calm - too calm in Sarah's opinion.

"Yes but…" Sarah said, stepping carefully around the tiny vinyl sofa, to put it between herself and Jareth, as he continued to advance.

Moving slowly toward her, Jareth's expression turned serious. "Sarah, we have to talk…."

"No...no we don't. It was business, Jareth. I told you that."

"Blast it all, Sarah… this is important. We must discuss what happened," he insisted, wondering at the sudden sense of fear that pulsed around her.

Sarah shook her head, her eyes darkening to deep moss in her frustration. "No! Just let it go, Jareth. Pretend it never happened. Please!"

His steps were measured and firm, until he stood before her, her back against the wall of the small flat. "We  _will_  talk...and more importantly, you  _will_  listen, woman!"

"Let me find Anwyn, then you can do what you need to do. Just let me make arrangements for Toby. I'm all he's got. I get that I'm a threat….but you can't take it out on him too. He's innocent."

Taken aback, Jareth paused, his pale eyes narrowing upon her. "What are you talking about?"

"Look...Jareth...if you kill me now, I can't find your sister," she protested.

"Kill you? Why would I kill you?" he asked, his eyes narrowing in confusion at her words.

Fighting the urge to cower before him, Sarah whispered, her heart thudding loudly in her ears. She hated herself for being a truth seer and now it would cost her everything, even her life. "I know your secrets."

"Sarah, I don't want to kill you… and more importantly, I couldn't…."

Cutting him off, Sarah sighed miserably, "I'm a threat. You have to do it. You're the next in line. What I know makes you vulnerable. I'm sorry. I don't want to know it. If I could give the truth back I would. But I can't. I'm sorry."

"Damnit woman! Will you shut...up and listen to me!" Jareth snapped, the power in his voice making the walls tremble around them. "I have no desire to kill you. I'd sooner lop off my own… hand, than kill you."

Flinching, Sarah shut her eyes tight, and rambled, "Just let me make arrangements for Toby. Hell...you could raise. Him, promise me you'll take care of him and make sure he's safe and happy. Do that and I'll gladly off myself after I find Anwyn. I get it...I'm a danger…"

"I  _can't_  kill you, you infuriating woman!" he roared, the air sizzling with magic.

Sarah stared at him with wide eyes, her words a whisper, "You can't? Why?"

"That's what I've been trying to tell you…you are bound to me…."

Her shoulders slumped and she nodded, hanging her head in surrender. "Through friendship. I know...We can dissolve the bond and you can do what must be done once I find Anwyn. Just please, swear to me that you'll take care of Toby. I want your oath, Jareth. Give me that and I'll do whatever you ask of me to keep your secret…just kill me quick. A warrior's death," Sarah babbled, her words coming faster and tumbling over each other as he lifted his hands toward her throat.

Cupping her face, Jareth leaned in and kissed her, his lips surprisingly tender, despite the possessiveness of his touch. The feel of his lips send a pulse of magic through both of them, washing over their bodies in a rush of pleasant warmth, leaving them flushed and tingling. Jareth took his time, teasing his tongue past her lips, as they parted in a startled gasp. Slowly he twined his tongue along hers, a low growl rumbling in his chest when she went limp, her lips beginning to move against his. Breaking the kiss, he looked at her, his usually pale eyes shimmering sapphires.

"Whoa…" Sarah mumbled, her emerald eyes half-hidden beneath hooded eyelids, while her lips and tongue feelt swollen with both passion and magic. "What...the fuck...was that?"

A smile curled his lips at the lust-addled expression on her face.

_She should look like that more often. Well kissed...and even better, well-fucked._

"That is what I was trying to explain, Sarah...and why we must talk."

"But," Sarah muttered, shaking her head slightly to clear her mind.

"No more excuses, Sarah. We must talk. There are things you must know. Circumstances have changed," Jareth said quietly, as he wrapped his arm around her, a shimmering purple crystal appearing in his hand.

"No magic, Jareth! They can track us," she gasped, a rush of panic surging within her as she reached for the crystal.

Jareth moved the crystal out of her reach and dipped his head, his lips teasing her ear as he purred, "Trust me, Precious. Where we are going, they will not be able to follow."


	10. Breaking Glass

**Author Note:** This chapter contains sexual themes :) As always, please review. I've never written a scene quite like this before :)

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**Ch. 10 The Sound of Breaking Glass**

Sarah shivered, her breath catching in her throat at the feel of Jareth's arm sliding further around her, steely and firm. He pulled her against him, her hip slotting under his comfortably, like two puzzle pieces finding their match. The heat of him seemed to seep into body, warming her despite the chill of the decrepit apartment, until her very bones seemed to tingle within her. Feeling the solid planes of his chest as he shifted to pull her back against him, Sarah bit back a hungry groan. Jareth wrapped his hand around her hip, his gloved fingers lying low upon her stomach, the touch light but hinting at an intimate possessiveness that made her heart stutter in her chest. When he breathed against her neck, she felt the warm trickle of his magic wash over her, making her own magic churn within her, teasing against his. While the Goblin King might pass as a mortal when glamored, it only took one touch to remind her that he was anything but human.

_This is wrong. Oh ...fuck is this wrong._

But her magic wasn't the only part of her that responded to having the Goblin King holding her close. The low rumbling growl made the surge of magic within her swirl to pool like lava between her thighs.

_This is bad… this is sooooo very bad. Down girl! That was a one-off. There will be NO further fucking of the Goblin King._

Sarah tried to focus on the glittering purple crystal, but with Jareth wrapped around her thinking of anything but the feel of him driving deep inside her, pushing her from one orgasm to another was virtually impossible. With a gentle flick of his wrist, the crystal soared up above their heads, Sarah's eyes following the graceful arc of the glittering orb, before it burst. In a rush the world seemed to twist and fold in around them, sucking them through the whirling vortex between worlds. Flashes of color melded around them, then with a sudden burst of blue light, the world seemed to unfold once more, leaving Sarah clinging to Jareth to remain upright.

"That was...different," she muttered, righting herself, only to find the hand holding her against the Goblin King had not released, if anything it was holding her more firmly. "Um...you can let go now, Jareth."

"Not until I have your assurance that you will finally listen to what I have to say, Sarah," he replied, his words firm, yet bearing no hint of the anger he had shown in Anwyn's flat.

Finally taking in their new location, Sarah found herself laughing at the sight of the lush flowers that ran up the stone walls, the mix of exotic and light floral fragrances enough to make her light-headed. "You've brought us to Inara's gardens?" she asked, turning in his arm, until her chest was pressed against his.

Still waiting for her promise to listen, Jareth's hand stayed firm against her back, while his other arm wrapped around her, caging her against his body. Looking down at her, Jareth's lips quirked in a sly smile, pleased when she did not attempt to pull away.

"Call it a hunch, but I suspect that were I to take us to my throne room or private chambers to have this little tete a tete, you would attempt to do evil things to my being with your various weapons. And since you seem so keen to avoid a charge of regicide, a neutral territory seemed logical," he chuckled, his hand slowly sliding up Sarah's back, before twining in the hair at the back of her head. Tightening his fingers, he pulled her head back, drinking in the slight hitch in her breath and the flash of need that flickered through her eyes at the sensation. "But know this, Champion…" he purred, his tone dripping with a sensuality borne of authority and power. "While I may cater to your whims and expectations, my generosity only extends so far. This conversation will happen, if I have to bind you and gag you in order to ensure that it does."

Sarah's eyes widened at the pressure upon her head, then fluttered shut, her mind filling with random images that involved her bound and gagged before him - just not in Inara's garden and definitely not involving any clothing. Feeling him lean in, a traitorous tremble slithered up her spine. His breath teased along her lips, heated and soft, like a phantom caress, enough to tempt her into parting her own at the mere promise of his lips against hers. Just when she thought he might kiss her, he moved his head, dipping lower until his breath washed over the bite mark upon her neck. In spite of herself, Sarah heard a wavering moan of desire flow past her lips.

_No...no Fucking stop that right now! There will be NO more of that! Get a grip, Sarah!_

Smiling darkly, Jareth ran his lips over the mark, relishing the soft whimper that filled his ears. When he lifted his head once more, his pale eyes glittered with an intensity that sent a surge of heat to throb low within her. "If that is how a little kiss makes you respond, I'd say your vampire lover isn't doing her job, Precious."

Sarah bit back another moan, her verdant eyes snapping as she returned his gaze. "She is no longer my lover. Why… do you want the job?"

_What the Hell?! Have you lost your ever-loving mind?! You do NOT flirt with the Goblin King! That is NOT ALLOWED! What the fuck happened to the filter between my brain and mouth? For that matter, what happened to not fucking clients?!_

A purring chuckle rumbled around her, setting her blood burning through her once more.

"Let's see if you wish to make that offer once we've had our chat, Sarah," he murmured, his lips a hairsbreadth from hers, teasing her with a kiss she was not sure would ever come. "For now, however...I want you…" he drawled, then deftly spun her out of his arms and into a deeply padded armchair under a willow tree, "...to sit."

Blinking in surprise, Sarah watched Jareth settle into a chair opposite her, a faint sense of disappointment settling into her stomach with an icy chill that dulled the fire that had raged within her a moment earlier. "But…"

A sculpted eyebrow arched, as Jareth gave a slight shake of his head, his pale eyes narrowing in warning. "No Sarah. For the moment, I wish you merely to listen. The circumstances we find ourselves in after our 'business' Saturday evening, change things."

Jareth smiled, watching Sarah snap her mouth shut, her eyes flashing from dull moss to emerald in an instant. He didn't need to read minds to know that she was still debating arguing with him, and if he were honest with himself, he wouldn't have it any other way. Of all the women who had come in and out of his life, most were milquetoast females who simpered and wanted to use his status to increase their own. In all those years only three of them had any fire within them and as Fate would have it, two of them found each other - he couldn't help but wonder about the heated rows Sarah and Zora might have had, not to mention what other things such fights might have led to.

Sarah watched, her lips pulled into a petulant frown as Jareth ran his tongue over his lower lip, his hand falling to his lap. As casually as if he were scratching his neck, Jareth adjusted himself, not even trying to hide the fact that he was hard. Growling low her throat, Sarah fought down the sudden ache inside her, remembering how well he filled her and the intensity of the release she found at his touch.

"Start talking, Goblin King…" Sarah grumbled, seeking any distraction from such thoughts. "What consequences?"

Nodding, Jareth tapped his chin thoughtfully with steepled fingers, his elbows propped on the arms of his chair. "If what you saw as my truth is indeed true, and as a truth seer, I have no reason to doubt you, then through our… 'activities' while captured by those imbeciles, I believe a claim has been made."

"You claimed me?! How dare you?! What gave you the right to…" she hissed, her voice rising, as a wave of bile rushed up to burn her throat.

"You did…" Jareth replied with a matter-of-fact air. Settling comfortably in his chair, he leaned his head against two fingers, watching her reaction with an air of detached amusement.

Sarah fought down the nausea that made her stomach roll and drop. She'd been trained. She was a walking encyclopedia of supernatural and mythic beings. How could she have been so monumentally stupid?

"Fuck off! I did  _not_  give you permission to claim me!" she snapped, her jaw set in a hard line as she shook her head, her mind running through the events of the night, searching for any sign that what he said was true. "I was just… trying to break whatever whammy you were under. Like Zora said to do."

Momentarily waving his fingers at her, Jareth gave her a quiet smile as he nodded., "Not true, you initiated the claim  _and_  reciprocated."

"I did no such thing!" she protested, slamming her hand down upon the arm of her chair with such force that the wood cracked.

Ignoring her outburst, Jareth nodded, his tone deceptively calm. "You willingly had sex with me, Sarah...knowing full well what I am."

Her mouth opened and closed twice, the light of understanding beginning to flicker in her mossy colored eyes. "Yeah but sex isn't enough to…."

Arching an aristocratic eyebrow, Jareth's lips twisted into a mocking smile, "Oh, so the mortal is now an expert on Nephilim mating experiences is she?"

"Well no...but…." Sarah muttered, glaring at him, the rolling waves of nausea making it difficult to think, much less find the loophole in this nightmare she seemed to have fallen into. Anger surged forward, overriding the nausea as she launched herself to her feet, stomping toward him and waving her hand. "No! I did NOT reciprocate. I did not initiate anything! You're lying! I don't know why but you're ly…." she shouted, her last syllable cut off by Jareth.

"I cannot lie to you, Sarah!" Jareth snapped, rising and stepping toward her as she stood her ground, glaring at him. His words were calculating and cold, each one slicing into her like a knife that placed her very life in his hands. "You willingly initiated sex with a Nephilim.  _You_  invited me to bite you...and finally, you accepted the claim."

"I did NOT!" she growled, poking Jareth in the chest, then gasping at the jolt of magical energy that zapped her from the simple touch.

Hooking his finger in the high-neck of his sweater, Jareth viciously tugged it down, revealing a half-healed bite mark, his eyes glowing darkly in his own anger. "Yes. ."

Visibly wilting, Sarah stared at the bite mark, shaking her head. "No… I… no...I...I've fought too hard to stand on my own. I...I struggled...to be my own person. No one...no one has power over me," she muttered. Red lips curled downward as her shock turned to anger - more at herself than Jareth. "No! You have no power over me, Goblin King!" she hissed, his title falling from her lips like a weapon - one intended to wound.

And it did.

Jareth's hand shot out, grabbing Sarah's coat hard, the sound of threads snapping seeming to echo loudly around them. Hauling her bodily against him, Jareth's feral snarl rippled through the garden. Still snarling, Jareth's head dropped, his breath burning the tender flesh of her neck, teasing ever closer until his lips touched her skin. Sarah gasped and gripped his biceps, a surge of power rushing through her as his lips caressed the bite mark on her own throat, velvety soft, yet burning like glowing embers. Roaring through her, the magic filled her, buzzing under her skin and through her mind. The touch of his lips to the mark, was nothing compared to the electric sensation that shot through her the moment his teeth grazed it. Instantly she felt the tell-tale throbbing start behind her clit, a heavy warmth sinking into her core.

Then he bit her and her world came crashing down.

Shuddering violently, she cried out, clinging to him while her her slick channel grasped frantically against nothing, the empty feeling frustrating even as the release tore through her, leaving her gasping in his arms.

"Yes...I do, Sarah," Jareth purred in her ear, holding her through the final aftershocks of the sudden orgasm.

More gently than she would have expected, Jareth sat her back in her chair, his fingers caressing her cheek as he brushed hair back from her face. Numb, Sarah touched the mark and shivered, a low groan spilling from her parted lips. Pulling her hand away she expected to see blood, but there was none.

"But...you bit me…"

"That? That was not a proper bite, Precious. Just a little...nibble. Now imagine what a full bite would do, hmm? You've experienced it once. I'd be happy to remind you should you need it." Relishing the way her cheeks flushed pink, Jareth smiled, his fingers tucking a fall of hair behind her ear. "You've had sex with Fae before, have you not?" he asked bluntly, no hint of judgement in his quiet question.

"Yes," Sarah murmured, cursing the way her cheeks gave her away, flushing so hot they throbbed. Before she could answer further, another aftershock rushed through her, making her tremble and gasp.

Patient now that his point had been made, Jareth waited for her trembling to subside once more, before continuing, "Tell me, is that the normal reaction you have to a Fae 'love bite'?" Unable to look at him, Sarah hung her head. "I believe this also explains our little case of 'Voyeur Death' the other night, Precious."

"The explosion...wasn't your magic?"

"No...at least not mine alone," he sighed, his hand falling to her shoulder. "With your background of the Nether, surely you know that for many Fae, sex is not merely physical, but magical. That is part of the rush they get from it, similar to the drugs used in the Above. It can be addictive to feel another's magic teasing internally against one's own. Given your magic, combined with the power I wield, I think the two combined with the claim we set in motion, resulted in that rather impressive lightshow."

Rubbing her temples, Sarah shut her eyes, the nausea returning along with a steady pounding behind her eyes. She grumbled, trying to comprehend what he was saying. "How, Jareth?" she asked, glancing up at him, defeated by the knowledge that she had done exactly as he said, she not only initiated it, but she reciprocated. "You were not yourself, there has to be intent for a claim to take effect, right?"

Jareth's touch was gentle on her cheek, his expression pensive, before he turned away from her. Returning to his chair, he sighed, leaning upon the back, silent and brooding. "While magic can be felt without the need for intent, it is only through conscious intent that it can be molded, and in this case, result in what is, effectively, a magical contract. In order for a claim to exist, there had to be…"

At his pause, Sarah frowned, "Had to be what?"

"Intent, Sarah...a desire to possess the other."

Her eyes widened as she shook her head. "I...I didn't...I don't….did you...what?" she stammered. "You're the Goblin King...you wouldn't...I'd never..."

"I'm not sure if I should take that as an insult or not," Jareth chuckled, tilting his head and regarding her with a quiet smile. "As for whether we had the desire to possess the other, I would think the resulting bond is more than sufficient proof that we each, on some level, desired to possess the other. Were I in my right mind at the time, I can't say that the effect would have been any different, Sarah."

Blinking, Sarah gawked at him, her heart hammering in her chest at his revelation, delivered so casually that an outsider might overlook it entirely. "You...you wanted to…  _possess_  me?!"

"You declared I had no power over you, Sarah. You are the Labyrinth Champion and turned down every offer I made you. Of course a part of me would want to possess you, if only to regain that power," Jareth replied, his words solemn. Seeing her tense and open her mouth, Jareth raised his hand, "I am not the only one to hold blame here, Sarah. So save your vitriol. While a Nephilim can claim an unwilling being, the claim would be one-sided and would not result in the power we experienced. No, the only way for that to occur is if the claim was mutual…. So don't you dare try to absolve yourself of any blame here."

Silence stretched between them, as both Sarah and Jareth glared at the other. Around them birds chirped merrily and the wind rustled through the bushes and trees. Sarah groaned, then hunched over, burying her face in her hands as she screamed through clenched teeth.

"Nononononononono!" Glancing at him through the cascade of brunette waves, Sarah sighed. "So… now what? Am I…your property?" she asked, choking on the last word as it turned to ash upon her lips.

Jareth's frowned, watching the fear and revulsion war upon her face, a faint sense of self-loathing pressing down upon him at the sight of it. In truth, he did not have an easy answer for her. As Nephilim and High Fae, his power was unrivaled so it would be an easy thing to dictate the terms of the rest of her life to suit his own whims. Once upon a time he would have happily taken full advantage of that, in order to exact revenge upon the girl who bested him - but that time had passed. Now he found himself wanting to possess her in an entirely different way.

"There is no simple answer to that question, Sarah...at least none that you will like," he said, expecting the angry hum of magic around her in response to his words. "Hear me out before you let loose your venom, Precious. Were you a mortal and were the claim one-sided, then the answer would be simple - you would be property. But you are  _not_ a mere mortal, you wield magic; not as much as other beings of the Nether, but enough that you cannot be claimed against your will. Most Nephilim keep 'pets'..." Seeing her open her mouth to begin to berate him once more, Jareth snapped his fingers sharply, a purple ballgag appearing in his fingertips. "Let me finish, Sarah. I would rather not resort to such things unless you were... _willing_...but I will if I must."

Glaring angrily at him, Sarah's jaw snapped shut hard enough that her teeth clicked audibly, the sound making Jareth's own jaw clench in sympathy.

"You may have seen my truth, Sarah, but I am still at least, partially High Fae. I have no desire to keep a human pet, or any other, it is rare for High Fae to do such things. However, the claim of a Nephilim cannot be dissolved once it has been accepted. So, we are left with deciding just what you will become in my life. The good news is that there are options."

"I don't want to be a slave, Jareth. And I will _not_ cower before you, or let you rule my life. I've fought too hard to gain my freedom and independence, to give it up to you now," she declared, folding her arms over her chest and eying him in challenge. "I won't live in your castle, either."

"To be perfectly honest, Sarah… I have no desire to have you as my slave. Nor do I really wish to have you in my castle on permanent basis - you caused entirely too much damage on your first visit," he chuckled. "But at the same time, you are bound to me, so I would prefer to know you are safe…."

"I won't quit my work, Jareth. So don't even think about it…"

Jareth pursed his lips, his eyes darkening in warning, his words icy, "Sarah… If I decided you would live in the alcove attached to my own chambers and act as my chambermaid, then that is what you would do! Remember, my generosity only extends so far, so kindly don't forget to whom you are speaking - you are now, and forevermore, a subject of the Goblin Kingdom."

Snarling, Sarah pushed up from her chair, and stomped toward him, her magic buzzing around her, as sparks of green and blue sizzled through the air. "Fuck you! I will not give up my life because of some stupid fucking mistake that I made while trying to save your ungrateful ass, Goblin King!"

"And I will not have you giving me orders and making demands, Sarah! You life is forfeit to me upon that claim," he growled, backing her into the thick trunk of the willow tree; with each step his own magic charged the air around him with angry crackling sounds. "I am trying to be reasonable, woman! Don't make me regret it!"

For a brief instant, all was silent in the grove, except for the magical energy flowing through the air with an electric hum, tense and charged as it swirled around them. Sarah felt the flow of energy seeping inside her, teasing against her own, like a lover's touch. With each pulse of magic flooding her, her blood burned like lava through her veins, to settle deep within, throbbing with the need of him, of being filled to bursting and loving every nerve-searing second of it. It was unnerving, strange and delicious - all at the same time. An odd sense of disconnection washed over her, like if she was watching herself from outside, yet feeling every sensation, until every cell seemed electrified and on edge.

Reaching out she grabbed Jareth's lapels, her fingers twisting into the silky cashmere, as she suddenly jerked him forward. Her lips crashed upon his in a fierce kiss, a dark purr rumbling in her throat. The effect was instantaneous; a surge of energy slammed through her, her core dripping in response to the power of it. Growling into the kiss, his tongue thrust deep past hers, plundering the velvet darkness of her lips.

_Gods...that tongue. I wonder what if would feel like fucking me…_

_~Give me time and you'll find out…~_

Gasping, Sarah broke the kiss, her eyes wide as she stared at him. "Did you just…"

"Yes. Now...do you  _really_  want to chat right now, Sarah?" he hissed, threading his fingers through her thick tresses and twisting them tight. He tugged her head back further until she moaned, her eyes fluttering shut. His breaths came in short pants, while she gave a strained moan of need.

Wrapping her leg around his hip, Sarah dug her foot into him, pulling him closer. The feel of his engorged cock trapped under the tight leather jeans rubbing against her center, made her hiss with delight, grinding herself against him. her. "No...I don't…" she groaned, capturing his lips once more. "No...talking."

A moment later she grunted in surprise, as her back was pressed firmly against a stone wall, her head thudding against the the slate. Jareth snarled, nipping along her jaw to her ear, his voice gruff, the vibration digging it's way into her head. "Coat… off." Hooking his fingers into the shoulders of her coat and dragging it roughly from her arms. With her lips still alternating attacking his and nipping his jaw, Jareth hissed and shrugged his own coat off and tossed it aside. In one swift movement he grabbed the hem of his sweater and jerked it over his head, hurling it away from them.

Watching him, Sarah ripped her own sweater over her head and threw it, barely noticing the sound of shattering glass, before she launched herself at Jareth, knocking him back until he growled, slamming against another wall with a muted thump. Jareth's lips curled back revealing his canines, as he licked and nipped her neck. His hands wrapped around her back, deftly working the clasp on her bra. "Umphf… bra…" he muttered, spinning her away from him and tugging it down with a ruthless jerk, the sound of tearing material not even registering, before it too was hurled across the room.

The moment it was on the floor, Sarah whirled on him, grabbing fistfuls of his hair and driving him back against the wall, the impact sending a nearby painting crashing to the floor; the sound of splintering wood becoming lost in Jareth's groans of pleasure. Sarah snarled happily and raked her fingernails along his shoulders and down his arms, leaving red lines in their wake. For a brief instant her green eyes met glowing sapphire, before she dipped her head, biting and nipping his chest with her sharp teeth, leaving a trail tiny red bite marks across his chest from one side to the other. Reaching his nipple, she purred, the sound soft and rumbling, as she flicked her tongue slowly around the pale nub, marveling at how small it was. Jareth arched against her, gritting his teeth. His hand tightened in her hair once more.

"Fuck…" he hissed, dragging her mouth from his nipple and devouring her lips like a starving man. His other hand palmed her breast roughly, kneading with firm digs of his fingers, while she squirmed against him, whimpering and pushing her breast further into his grasp.

"I...Gods...yes...thought...you'd...never ask," she panted between punishing kisses her hands frantically working his belt, until she could pull it from his trousers with a resounding snap that echoed against the stones. Flinging it to the side, neither of them noticed the thudding crack, as it broke a nearby window.

Impatient hands grabbed her wrists, driving her back hard against a thick tapestry hanging on the wall, the force ripping the tapestry from its rings and sending them clattering to the floor, while the tapestry dropped at their feet. Kicking it aside, Jareth growled, his eyes boring into hers as he popped the button her jeans. His hand dropped to his trousers, flicking them open, then lifting Sarah, her back slamming against the wall, as he drove upward, impaling her on his cock in one firm thrust.

Gasping, Sarah felt the pulse of magic seem to lance through her, from his cock to the top of her head, making her toes curl as she wrapped her legs tighter around his hips. "Yes...fuck…" she moaned, grabbing the iron lamp above her head and using it for leverage, to meet each deep thrust with a force of her own, taking as much as he gave and begging for more, her silken channel sheathing him easily, with wet sucking sounds. "Faster! Jareth...I...need...fuck...please" she whimpered, thudding her head against the stones in her desperation.

Around them the air was thick with magic, sizzling and crackling through the hall, as the magical storm of need raged within them. Jareth snarled, pounding mercilessly into her, each cry from her lips fueling the tightening deep within him that was already beckoning him toward release. A feral roar echoed off the stones as Jareth sunk his teeth once more into the mark on her neck. In that instant, time seemed to halt, as a burst of power tore through them. Jareth could feel Sarah shuddering violently, pinned to the wall by his cock and hips, her slick tunnel clasping so tightly around him it felt like he would never be free of her body - and he could think of no where else he'd rather be, from now until he crumbled to dust.

The sensation of her muscles massaging him, while she screamed his name sent another rush through him, his cock throbbing within her at the first taste of her blood on his lips. With each spasm of his cock, Jareth sucked deep, the sensation setting off another orgasm for Sarah, an electric feeling rushing outward until her every nerve was trembling with the power of their coupling. Each second seemed to last for minutes, as he emptied himself within the grip of his Champion's body.

A fine sheen of sweat covered their bodies when the final spasm shuddered through them. Feeling like a limp rag, Sarah moaned softly, her body spent upon the sword with which he conquered her - and for once, she didn't mind letting Jareth win. A quiet whimper of lust whispered past her lips when he lifted his head from her neck, his lips tinged with faint smears of crimson. Jareth flicked his tongue over his lips, then looked at her, the intensity of his gaze making her tremble again, her body fluttering around his cock, even as it started to harden once more. His eyes were dark, but she knew without a doubt that this was not the possessed, feral Jareth, this was the real Jareth.

Panting, he slid his arms around her, still sheathed to the hilt inside her. He moved two steps, until his knees hit something firm and he pitched forward, driving himself fully into her again as they fell onto a soft cushion.

"Fuck!" she squeaked, then shuddered violently, the action setting off another rush of release, while flashes of colors burst brightly behind her clenched eyelids.

Jareth chuckled softly, the movement making her gasp with pleasure. "Give me a few minutes, Precious. Even immortals need a few moments to recover."

His body covered hers, as his lips found hers once more. The immediate need sated, Jareth lazily kissed her, languid strokes of his tongue stoking the fires with her once more. Within minutes of his skillful ministrations she felt her core flutter around him, his cock twitching within her, hard and thick.

Then he began to move once more.

And Sarah cried out in bliss.

**~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~**

Groaning, Sarah buried her head further under the comforter, wondering why she felt like a horse who'd been ridden hard and put up wet. "What the fuck happened last night?" she muttered. Moment by moment she felt her mind come awake, registering the fact that she ached all over and more surprising, there was a very warm body spooned up behind her, and an arm draped over her hip. Attempting to shift her position, Sarah felt something within her throb, and the hand across her stomach tightened.

"Unless you want to have another go, lay still, Precious," murmured a seductive voice behind her, the sound making her tremble, while her body fluttered around the thickness inside her, earning her a heated groan. "While I'm more than happy oblige, I rather think you've had enough for one day."

"Wha...Jareth… why are you still…  _inside_  me?!" she hissed, but made no further attempt to move.

"You begged for more, then fell asleep in the middle," he replied, nuzzling along her ear. "Although I can't blame you. I've never known a mortal who could take as much as you did and demand more," he chuckled, a hint of amusement creeping into his tone. "And you are a  _very_  demanding woman, Sarah. Rather refreshing really."

Peeking over the edge of the comforter, creamy feathers tickled the tip of her nose. Sneezing suddenly, she felt Jareth's arm tighten around her, as she clamped down on him.

"Bloody Hell, Precious… warn me next time," he groaned, shivering against her.

"Sorry...not sorry," she muttered, then blinked as she looked around. The walls were grey slate, but they weren't in a room as far as she could tell - if they were it was incredibly narrow for a room. Craning her neck, she spotted a stained glass window of the royal seal of the Underground, with several of the panes cracked and several others missing. A tapestry hung by a single ring on an iron railing near the ceiling. Nearby another tapestry was torn completely from the wall. Splintered picture frames and damaged paintings lay on the floor, alongside shattered china and glass.

"Did we do this?" she gasped.

The sound of china grinding to dust underfoot, made her flinch back against Jareth who purred in her ear. Pulling the feather cloak over her face, Sarah froze, trying to ignore Jareth's quiet laughter.

Pushing up on his forearm, Jareth smiled and looked toward the footsteps, smiling at the slender Fae woman who was picking her way through the carnage on her way up the hall. Her shimmering white hair fell in a graceful plait that hung heavily over her shoulder, standing out in stark contrast to the deep purple dress that rustled softly with each step.

"Good morning, Grandmother."

Sarah felt her stomach drop in panic. She had assumed they were in the Goblin Castle, not at Inara's castle in T'shara - and from what she had seen, whatever room they were in, they had destroyed.

_Fuck… I screamed how many times as I came last night?! Shit… I'll never be able to face her. How is Jareth so fucking calm?!_

"Good morning Jareth darling. I thought I felt you arrive late yesterday," Inara said, giving him a warm smile. Looking around, she surveyed the damage and clucked softly, "Although I had rather thought you'd sleep in your own rooms. Should I ask why you are sleeping in the hall rather than in a proper bed?"

Chuckling, Jareth glanced around, inspecting the destruction he and Sarah had wrought. "Hmm.. this is just where we ended up. Our discussion was rather...heated."

"So I see," she said, pausing to inspect a broken vase, the pieces scattered across the floor. "Ahh...yes, I see you have brought a guest with you," Inara replied, nodding as Sarah peeked from under the edge of the cloak. "Hello Sarah dear. How is your sweet brother, Toby?"

"Um...he's fine...thanks," Sarah muttered, clutching the cloak to her chest as Jareth propped himself up, his cock flexing within her and growing harder by the second.

"Well, that's nice, dear. Breakfast will be served shortly in the gardens," Inara added, her smile broadening at the sight of bark and bits of twigs tangled in their hair. "Hmm… you're welcome to join me, although it would seem you have already acquainted yourselves with my gardens."

Glancing down Jareth plucked a bit of bark from Sarah's hair and chuckled "Yes… we have."

Sarah bit her lip and groaned, attempting to sink back beneath the cloak, while Inara arched an eyebrow and pinned the two of them with a stern look that was eerily similar to Jareth's authoritative glare.

_So that's where he gets it._

"You didn't hurt my trees did you?" she demanded, her lips pursed in a frown.

"No grandmother, we did not."

"Good… now, be a good host and show Sarah to one of the rooms so she can clean up a bit. And make sure she has appropriate clothing, Jareth? I'm not sure you'll be able to find all of your clothing in this mess," she commented, peering out the broken window nearby. "Hmm...there appears to be a bit of corsetry hanging in my rose bushes. Do take care of it, will you? We wouldn't want the goblins deciding it was the latest fashion trend."

Jareth groaned at the thought of goblins wearing bras, while Sarah giggled, the vibrations making his cock grow further, until it flexed inside her, turning her giggles to a gasping moan.

"We will take care of that and clear up the damage in here too," he nodded.

Smiling, Inara started back down the hall. "Breakfast will be served in a half-hour. You'd best get moving then."

Jareth's arm tightened over Sarah's hip, as the heated length of him pulsed rhythmically within her, stroking a spot inside that sent bursts of pleasure rocketing up her spine with each movement.

"Two would be better...if you don't mind," he suggested, his hand creeping down Sarah's stomach until he could curl two fingers between her thighs; a startled gasp breaking the silence.

Giving them a knowing smirk, Inara shook her head and turned back down the hall, "An hour, children. If you aren't in your seats by then, I'll come in after you… and you know no lock will keep me out of any room in my own home, Jareth. So don't try to defy me."

"Yes Grandmother," Jareth replied, waiting until Inara had left the hall before continuing to tease his fingertips around Sarah's clit. "Now then… where were we, Precious?"

Sarah sighed, turning her head to look at him. "Jareth...what are we doing?"

"Sarah, if you don't know what we've been doing most of the night, then your education is sadly lacking, and as your king, I would be remiss if I didn't see that you have a  _thorough_  education on the matter," he laughed, teasing his finger along the sensitive opening, still slick with their coupling from the night before.

Frowning, Sarah glared at him, her green eyes snapping irritably. "That isn't what I meant. I mean you and me...what are  _we_  doing? We can't keep fucking like this."

"Why not?"

"You're my client…" she said bitterly.

"If you still believe that is all there is between us, you are not as clever as you think, Sarah," Jareth replied. "What's so wrong with us finding comfort in each other's arms, even if it is a bit… violent at times?"

For a woman who could find answers, for once Sarah was without one.

And the feeling was terrifying.


	11. Shadows of the Truth

**CH. 11 Shadows of the Truth**

As much as Sarah liked Inara, having breakfast with the Queen Mother for the Nether after destroying a hall of her castle by fucking her grandson, who just happened to be the Goblin King and Sarah's client, made the meal memorable for all of the wrong reasons.

Sarah wasn't sure what annoyed her more, Inara's light chatter as she tried to put Sarah at ease, or the way Jareth seemed completely unaffected by any of it. He managed to juggle eating, chatting with his grandmother, and teasing his fingers up the inside of Sarah's thigh with ease. Sarah on the other hand struggled to swallow while his fingers were curled between her thighs, pressing firmly against her, while talking to Inara and fighting the urge to slap his hand away because she didn't want to make a scene - and the irritating prick knew it!

Inara on the other hand was perfectly content, chatting amiably about her gardens, staff, adventures and grandchildren; while giving Jareth several rather pointed hints about the fact that it was high time he gave her a grandchild...or ten, she really wasn't too picky on the number (although Sarah had the sneaking suspicion Inara would prefer more than one). Jareth merely laughed and reminded her that he had yet to meet someone who was worthy of being his consort or Queen - a statement that earned him angry glares from both women, for different reasons.

Plastering a smile on her face, Sarah smiled at their hostess, "Thank you so much for breakfast, Inara...or should I call you something else? You didn't exactly tell me who you were when we had our business."

"Inara is fine in private, Sarah dear. We are old friends now anyway," she said, smiling warmly at Sarah, while she watched her grandson obliviously eating the porridge in front of him.

Sarah nodded, placing her cutlery across her plate, "And please, forgive me for what I'm about to do."

With a knowing grin, Inara winked at the young brunette, her eyes twinkling mischievously. "None needed, Sarah dear. You do what you must and know I support you fully. You are a wise young woman, trust your own worth dear girl."

"On that note then…." Sarah growled, snatching Jareth's hand out from where it was nestled between her thighs and standing in the same movement. Jareth's eyebrows lifted in surprise, then disgust, as she dumped his hand, glove and lace cuff included, into his half-eaten bowl of porridge. Throwing her napkin in Jareth's stunned face, Sarah snarled, "YOU...you… arrogant prick! So I'm only good enough for a quick fuck, is that it? Someone to use like a whore while you destroy your grandmother's castle?" Pausing, Sarah glanced at Inara, her eyes still snapping angrily, while her voice softened. "Sorry about that by the way. Please make this asshole grandson of yours pay for damages."

Inara merrily waved her hand and laughed, the sound a gentle hum. "Think nothing of it, my dear. Had I known it was you two and what you were up to, I honestly would have expected far more damage given the power the two of you wield."

Sarah's emerald eyes narrowed a bit at Inara's words, then she tucked them away to examine later, as Jareth opened his mouth to interject.

"Now...hang on…" Jareth started to say, only to silence himself at the withering look from his grandmother and the look of sheer fury on Sarah's face, the air around her buzzing heavily with wild Labryinthian magic - which was unpredictable at best and positively lethal at worst.

"No! You don't get to open your fucking trap, Goblin King! You don't get to interrupt and dammit you don't get to apologize - not like you would. Fuck! You don't even know you've stuck your foot in your mouth do you?! You were happy enough to have me on my back and other...well that isn't important in front of your grandmother, but the point is, you're an unbelievable jackass! You treat me like some castle slut so you can get your rocks off?! Really? That's all I am? Well buddy, I pity any woman who'd have you as queen, consort or whatever the fuck you kept her around as, knowing you would prefer just to have a royal whore so you wouldn't have to share any status with her - Gods forbid someone should steal even a little bit of attention from the glittery peacock that is the Goblin King!" Turning to Inara, Sarah swallowed heavily, panting from quietly. "Is my portal still active from here?"

No longer smiling, Inara nodded, her shimmering eyes glistening with a sadness of her own. "Yes, dear...it is. Would you like to change what time you arrive back home?"

Blinking rapidly, Sarah fought back the burning of tears in her eyes. She didn't want to be with him that she was sure of, but his words still stung, digging into her mind and heart with needle like precision. A loud humming filled her head, growing louder with each painful beating of her heart.

_I will_ _**not** _ _dissolve into gross, angry sobbing in front of that arrogant asshole! Keep it together Williams!_

Sarah swallowed heavily, as she fought to keep her voice even. "Yes, please. Tuesday evening… around 7pm," she said, her words thick with the telltale sounds of impending tears. "That will allow me to avoid running into your jack ass of a grandson."

"Wait just a…" Jareth grumbled, then snapped his mouth shut with a frown, when Inara shot him a stern glare, as she plucked a shimmering silver crystal snowflake from the air and passed it to Sarah.

"There you go, my dear. Please, next time you visit, bring your brother. I do miss the little fellow, he reminds me of Jareth before he grew up to be an idiot," the Queen Mother replied, giving Jareth a cold look.

Jareth frowned at Sarah, rising and reaching for her. "Need I remind you, we have business together, you and I," Jareth said, his tone clipped and hard.

Glowering at him, the crackling of wild magic swirled around Sarah, as she slapped his hand away, the sound of flesh meeting flesh echoing loudly in the enclosed garden. "I revoke your invitation to touch me in  _any_  way, Goblin King," she hissed. "But I keep my promises. I'll do what you asked of me, but I don't want to see you again. You'll know when things are done because...well...you'll have what you asked me to find. But that's it. You show up anywhere near me and I will treat you like a potential threat, because as far as I am concerned, you are."

Jareth's eyes darkened at her threat. He had not seen the full measure of her skill with weapons and magic, but had witnessed enough to know she would definitely be able to make good upon her words should she wish to do so.

"You are forgetting one tiny, not-so-insignificant detail," he replied coldly, his fingers stroking the hidden claim bite upon his neck.

Sarah's hand immediately rubbed her own hidden mark, irritation flowing through her at the power of suggestion. Yanking her hand away, she screamed and flipped him off. "Fuck you, Jareth! That's all I have to say. You said nothing will change, well I'm holding you to that. You stay away from me and Toby unless I call for you. That's it. You can weave your protection magic from here, or better yet, ask your grandmother to do it because quite frankly, I trust her more than I'll ever trust you!"

Giving a brief curtsey to Inara, Sarah grasped the skirt of her deep sapphire silk dress and swept from the gardens, her dress rustling over the lush green lawn, as she disappeared from view - leaving Jareth staring after her, anger and confusion at war both upon his face and within him.

Inara's pale eyes narrowed upon her grandson, the air around the small breakfast table seeming to still and turn colder despite the warmth of the sun shining overhead. Jareth settled in his chair again, shrinking a bit at the icy stare of his grandmother. It was no secret within the family that Jareth and Anwyn were Inara's favourite grandchildren, so it was rare that Inara was ever cross with either of them - and to see her so made him decidedly uncomfortable.

"I meant what I said, Jareth...you're an idiot," she said, shaking her head, a delicate hand signaling to the servants to remove the remains of a breakfast that was no longer wanted, as the company had soured.

Huffing, Jareth returned her icy glare, "I fail to see what I did that was so grievous as for you to excuse Sarah's outburst and her rudeness."

"Rude? Sarah had every right to be rude after what you said, darling! You're lucky she didn't fully let loose her anger upon you, or I'd be sending for a healer. Words have power, you should know that better than anyone. And you you dealt them in such a careless way that you may have ruined the only real hope there is for you to find true happiness," Inara scolded him, shaking her head in dismay.

Jareth rolled his eyes, a disdainful sniff breaking the momentary silence."Sarah may be Champion, but that does not automatically make her the logical queen candidate. There are others who would gladly take on the Goblin Queen crown."

"Perhaps, but earlier you stated that they were not worthy of it...a truth I quite agree with," Inara replied, watching her beloved grandson attempt to hide his thoughts and feelings from her - and fail. "Yet if you weren't such a complete prat you would acknowledge what you feel in your bones, the only worthy woman you've met in centuries is the one you just insulted. I felt the power the two of you evoked when you were together last night. I'm no fool, Jareth. That level of energy cannot be raised by two who are incompatible."

Jareth groaned softly, lifting his face toward the sky. "She is positively infuriating… and at the same time I…." Frowning, Jareth looked at his grandmother, letting his words trail off into the ether.

"She's your equal in stubbornness, will and passion, darling. Oh, you'll fight. Often. Loud. Long. And possibly violently. But you'll make up as well," Inara laughed, the warm sound making nearby flowers sway with the magical hum of it.

"I've buggered things up more than you even know," he sighed despising the unaccustomed coldness that settled within his chest at the knowledge that his words were true. Sarah seemed adamant that she wanted as little to do with him as possible. Now that the words were said, he wasn't sure if he truly didn't think his words would hurt her, or if he wanted to sting her, as she had stung him.

Rising from her chair, Inara stroked the fine feathery strands that fell across Jareth's forehead, remembering for a moment the small boy who used to climb into her lap for comfort when a friend had insulted him with some petty slight or another. He was no child, yet still, she would offer him what comfort she could.

"Then it is up to you to set things right. Remember, my darling, her will is as strong as yours. If you treat her with force, she will respond in kind."

"She said she would treat me as a threat and I've seen enough of the woman she has become to believe her - she'd take great pleasure in inflicting damage upon me," he muttered, a hint of bitterness creeping into his tone.

"Yes, and I have no doubt you two will end up destroying whatever room you happen to be in when the violence is finished and the passion unleashed," she chuckled, then tapped the tip of his nose, in the same way she had done since he was a babe still in swaddling wraps. "Much as it was for your grandfather and I. Oh the fights. The air would buzz with the power of them, but in the end… there was passion. And eventually, love."

A deep sigh brushed past Jareth's lips as he looked at his grandmother, her face haloed with golden sunshine where she stood over him. "You speak as if you know something, Grandmother. Have you been bribing the oracles again?" he teased, his cheeky smile belied by the seriousness of his question.

"There is no need for that, Jareth. I have eyes of my own, dear boy. I know you, and I know Sarah. And now I've seen you together. The signs are there. She is your match, that much is certain. It may not happen this year, or in the next 20, but sooner or later, the two of you will succumb to what is meant to be. It will never be easy, but then again, you would only get bored with a woman who capitulated to your every whim."

Jareth sat quietly a moment, then ran his hand restlessly through his hair, until it fluffed about his face, pushing back at the icy despondency that tried to cover him like a pall. "Any advice to help a fool make amends, without offending a woman who wishes to remain fiercely independent?"

"You do as all men must, my darling...you grovel," Inara said, her eyes alight with amusement at his reactions. "Although in the case of dear Sarah, I suggest that you try not to appear too weak and expect a bit of pain to be dished out in your groveling. Take it with good grace. Rebuild the trust first, the rest will follow as it should," Inara added, then pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead. "I think I shall invite Sarah and Toby along for the weekend. We shall have a picnic at the dragon pools. Young boys always like to have a romp with baby dragons," she murmured, talking to herself as she started toward the archway leading back to the castle. Peering over her shoulder, she smiled at her grandson, who still stared pensively into the garden pond. "You are invited too...if you think you can behave yourself and avoid being more of an idiot where Sarah is concerned."

And with her final invitation hanging in the air, Inara strolled back into her castle, leaving the Goblin King alone to replay his latest failure with the Champion.

**~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~**

Dashona peered through the enchanted glass on the back of the front door, an odd sense of déjà vu flooding her at the sight that greeted her. The vaguely human glamour might allow him to pass unseen by most humans and Nether expatriates living Above, as a citizen of the Goblin Kingdom, Dashona knew her king when she saw him. Swathed in an elegant wool dress coat, he could pass upon the street as any other well-off New Yorker, but to those who were bound to him, the air of authority that surrounded him was impossible to miss. Humans and others of the Nether might feel his power as a mere shiver of cold, a sensation described in the Above as a goose walking over one's grave - a turn of phrase that had long been associated with crossing paths with a High Fae.

Even through the thick metal of the reinforced and warded door, Dashona could feel the faint chill in the air that surrounded him. While he seemed to wait patiently enough for the door to open, the firm set of his jaw told a different story; it was that, combined with what she was charged with doing that made her stomach knot with worry.

The first thing Sarah had said when she returned to the flat that evening, was that should any Fae show up at the door, Dashona was to turn them away. More unusual was the fact that she went further in her instructions demanding that she was not to be disturbed for any reason, short of Toby being in mortal peril - and even then Dashona would have some difficult questions to answer should that be the case, since her primary job was to protect Toby with her own life if necessary.

Steeling herself, Dashona opened the door enough to peer through the crack at the Goblin King, her amber eyes flickering orange as she nodded briefly, acknowledging his status, "Good evening, Sire."

"Good evening, Dashona. I would like to see Sarah," he replied, the innocuous phrasing underlaid with a hint of demand that was unmistakable, as he ran his fingers over the wooden box in the deep pocket of his great coat. Noting the brief flicker of hesitation in her eyes, Jareth sighed inwardly -  _Why must everything involving Sarah be so bloody difficult?!_

Taken aback that the Goblin King and Crown Prince knew her name and the name of her employer, Dashona's golden eyes narrowed, the strange sense that she was forgetting something filling her once more. Sarah had made her swear never to reveal the existence of either Sarah or Toby to the Goblin King, yet here he was, asking after her. Shaking off the odd sensation, Dashona's reply was quietly respectful, "I am sorry Sire, but there is no one here by that name."

The pale blue eyes of the Goblin King turned steely, the air around him dropping in temperature until she shivered, goosebumps racing up her arms, left bare by flowing green silk of her dress.

"Lying to me would be most unwise, unless you fancy sampling the hospitality to be found in my dungeons," Jareth murmured, his words terse. Dashona didn't flinch at the threat, a simple incline of her head being the only indication that his words had struck their mark. "Now, let us begin again, with the truth this time. I wish to see Sarah."

Fighting back the feeling that she was forgetting something important, Dashona met the Goblin King's steely gaze with one of her own. "I am sorry, Your Majesty, but she is not accepting visitors this evening. I would suggest that if you have business with her, you call tomorrow and seek an appointment."

The Goblin King was not accustomed to being thwarted by his own subjects, and Dashona's words did not sit well with him. Arching an eyebrow, Jareth's eyes flashed darkly for a brief instant, his response icy. "You have a choice. You can either admit me as a client of the Finder who has urgent business with her, or you can admit me as your King, to whom you owe both your life and have sworn fealty - and to forswear such would a  _grave_  mistake. Either way, I  _will_ be entering this apartment. The question you must ask yourself is where  _you_ would like to be at the end of this little chat. Would you rather remain here under the employ of the Finder, or find yourself in my dungeon? Therefore, before you reply to my request I strongly suggest you consider your options and choose wisely."

Dashona sighed, her long white hair sliding forward to cover her face as she inclined her head and stepped back, allowing him entry. "It is difficult to serve two Masters," she murmured, locking the door behind him once he entered the flat.

"Yes, I rather think it would be," Jareth replied, as his fingers deftly freed the wool scarf from around his throat. "While I do respect your loyalty to your employer, circumstances have changed, both yours and that of the Williams siblings." Feeling the telltale tingle of time shifting upon the air, Jareth frowned inwardly, knowing she would no longer remember the conversation he had with her the day before in his own timeline. Jareth gave the woman a quiet smile, his demeanor softening somewhat. "Know this, Dashona… my business with the Finder, extends past her professional responsibilities. I will be taking a more personal interest in her safety, as well as the safety and education of her brother. We will discuss these matters more fully at another time, but for now, I merely need to speak with Sarah."

Confusion marring her lovely eyes, Dashona pursed her lips and looked at her king. "Sarah is in the sparring room, Sire. However, I would strongly advise you not to enter. Why don't you wait in the lounge and I will announce you," she suggested, gesturing toward the formal lounge near the front door.

"I think not," he replied brusquely, unfastening the buttons of the long wool coat and handing it to Dashona. "Keep this safe, there is a gift for Sarah within. And don't worry about escorting me, I know the way to the sparring room. I would suggest you go look after Toby, there may be some… noise… and he may need reassurance that his sister is safe."

"Is she, Sire?" Dashona asked, the softness of her words doing little to hide the challenge that underpinned them.

Pausing, Jareth turned to look at the woman, marveling once more at the level of trust, loyalty and propensity toward insolence that the Champion seemed to inspire amongst his subjects. Dashona had not moved from the door, yet her posture spoke of measured observation, one slender hand resting lightly upon the pommel of the blade strapped to her hip. He knew enough of her kind to know that should he act in dishonorably toward her employer or charge, she would eschew her oath of fealty in a heartbeat, doing all in her power to right the wrong, even it meant killing her king.

"Rest assured, Dashona… while Sarah and I may have our disagreements, I will do nothing to harm her. She is the Champion of the Labyrinth. That alone carries status within the Goblin Kingdom, a status that not even the King can deny."

With his words still lingering in the air, the Goblin King stalked down the hall, his footsteps firm upon the parquet floor.

Muffled grunts and growls echoed into the hall, as he approached the sparring room, the clash of metal against metal ringing in his ears. Stopping outside, Jareth peered through the glass viewing panel - a shiver of delight thrumming through him at the sight that met him. Based upon the noises emanating into the hall, he had expected to find her sparring with Zora or even Vanya, but what he saw was a warrior - deadly in both skill and beauty.

The blood red cassock of a Guardian clung to her from shoulder to hip, before flaring into a split skirt designed to allow for ease of movement - and move she did. Sarah's hair seemed to float upon the air, suspended in time as she spun, swinging the curved blades she held in each hand, a study in lethal precision. Twirling the other direction to dodge a blow from her armored opponent, the skirts of her tightly fitted cassock swirled around her legs with such grace one could be excused for thinking she was merely dancing; yet a second look would show her as a femme fatale, in the truest sense of the word. Beneath the dark mane that fell briefly over her face, her emerald eyes glowed with power. Drinking in the sight of Sarah's face, her eyes and lips rimmed in kohl that flowed over her cheeks and forehead in the characteristic swirls and dots of a Black Gypsy assassin, Jareth shivered as he saw in her what Inara must have seen...

His match.

And he wanted her.

The blades in Sarah's hands glinted sharply in the muted light of the sparring room, meeting the obsidian blade of her opponent with an ear-splitting clang. Twin snarls of anger filled the air, while the two fighters sought to free their blades from the other. Jareth was mesmerized by the skill and grace with which Sarah fought, his growl of longing joining Sarah's angry growl, as she spun under a blow from the obsidian blade, only to slash her blade across her opponent's cheek. Pride and awe warred within him at her prowess, leaving him momentarily marveling at the strange feeling that flooded him. Lost in thought as he studied her form, lithe and lethal in each exacting movement, he felt the world seem to close in around him when her opponent dodged another blow and spun around to face the door. Jareth's breath seemed to freeze within his chest, confusion consuming him at the sight.

He was staring at himself.

Dressed in the heavy dragonscale and basilisk hide armor of the Goblin King's formal regalia, Jareth's doppelganger shifted to the left, then stepped forward with a speed that would have overpowered a normal human, his obsidian blade slashing the air and narrowly missing Sarah's head, while it sliced across her shoulder, opening up a bleeding slash, the color of her blood blending with the deep crimson of the cassock. Snarling angrily, Sarah twisted away from the blow, her own blade slicing through the embossed bracer of the doppelganger's sword arm. Without thinking about what he was doing, Jareth glanced down at his own arm, half-expecting to see blood or feel pain.

Sarah's guttural cry drew his attention back to the room, his groin tightening with want at the sight of his doppelganger pinning her against the wall, an armored thigh wedged between Sarah's own thighs, leaving her trapped. Despite the angry cry, a sudden flash of lust flickered in her eyes, emerald fire sparking within them.

Unseen, Jareth slipped through the door, a veil of invisibility falling over him, leaving him free to observe the lethal beauty more closely.

Hissing angrily, Sarah squirmed on the doppelganger's thigh, before slamming her head forward, the sickening sound of bone meeting flesh with painful force, filled the room. The doppelganger grunted and stumbled back, leaving a disheveled Sarah standing at the ready with her blades, her blackened lips curling over her teeth in a primal sneer. A bleeding split formed above her right eye, crimson drops rolling slowly downward adding macabre accent to the kohl markings upon her face.

"No! I do  **not**  ...fuck clients...especially you, Jareth!" she shouted, punctuating each phrase with another blow of her blades, as she forced her opponent toward the other side of the room, a whirling dervish of red cassock skirts, arced blades and hatred. "You arrogant. Prancing. Pompous. Prick...of a peacock! I'm...better...than you fucking deserve!" Sarah slashed the double across the other cheek, leaving a bleeding gash that marred the angular cheekbone. Then she spun away from his next blow, to stab him in the thigh, having found the gap between two pieces of his armor. "You can...fucking...DIE...for all I care!" she roared, shifting quickly upon the balls of her feet and thrusting her curved blade into the gap beneath his arm, catching the doppelganger in the armpit with her blade and giving it a vicious, twisting pull, that nearly cleaved the double in two from his left armpit to right hip.

The doppelganger Jareth froze, his pale eyes wide in surprise. Roaring her victory, Sarah jerked her sword free, leaving the double to slowly topple to the floor, only to disappear in a haze of glitter before landing.

In the next instant, Sarah spun, verdant lava burning in her gaze as it fell upon Jareth. "You arrogant ass! I'm a fucking Black Gypsy  _and_  you claimed me! Did you really think a simple cloaking spell would keep me from knowing you are here?" she hissed, advancing toward him, her blades held firm in her hands.

 _There is such a fine line between passionate desire and anger_ \- Jareth thought, his body responding to the passion in her, as he briefly contemplated slamming her against the wall and fucking her until she couldn't stand.

Her enraged snarl, pulled him from his reverie, but her actions made his decision for him.

"I thought I told you I didn't want to see you again? Or are you that eager to see just how much I could hurt you - regicide be damned," Sarah growled, lunging at him, her blades slicing through the air.

Surprised by her willingness to attack him, Jareth's instinctively dodged to the side. Hitting the mat and rolling back to his feet, the simple cashmere trousers and button-down shirt he was wearing shimmered briefly then morphed, folding and rippling until he stood in the real royal regalia of the Goblin King. With a speed borne of centuries of experience with weapons, his stance immediately shifted, readying him for her next attack.

"You were snooping in my study, you bastard! Even with the time shift, I could feel it. It's bad enough that you forced Dashona to let you in to begin with, but you had no business going through my private things!" she snapped, her steps measured as she slowly pivoted, mirroring his movements. Her eyes darkened, hooded beneath thick eyelashes, watching for any sign of his next move.

"I was worried about you. No one knew where you were," the Goblin King replied, carefully turning, his leather armor creaking softly.

Sarah's derisive bark of laughter shattered the relative silence of the room, "Hah! What right do you have to be worried?!"

A low growl rumbled in Jareth's chest at her derision, his gloved hand tugging at the bottom of his gorget, lightly touching the bite she had placed upon him, sealing her fate and his claim. "This!"

"Is that going to be your excuse for everything from now on? That damn claim?!"

"If it suits my purposes," came the droll reply.

Jareth's predatory senses pushed forward, his eyes scanning her for any twitch that might give away her next attack. The faintest movement of her left foot, signaled her decision, a moment before her body actually moved.

"I was working  _your_  case! That is my fucking job!"

Lunging for him, Sarah feinted to the right at the last moment, intending to catch him off guard with her left blade, while his attention was on her right. Unfortunately, she underestimated her own skills compared to the Goblin King's speed and prowess with a blade. Prepared for her attack, Jareth easily side-stepped the angry woman, then turned to face her, years of training and muscle memory taking over, until each movement was pure instinct.

"I fail to see why you are so angry…"

"You...bastard! You said I wasn't worthy… to my fucking face!" she hissed, spinning away from him and catching him against the back, her blade leaving a thick gash in the armor, even as the armor repaired itself. "I'm more worthy than any of the other women you've courted. I beat your pet maze for starters. Not even Zora managed that!"

Swinging the glowing short sword in his right hand, a translucent crystal sword appeared in his left. With masterful steps, Jareth moved forward, advancing upon the irate Champion, the artful swings of his swords eliciting a startled gasp from Sarah, as she struggled to block the powerful blows with her own blades. Growling, Jareth's lips curled in a dangerous smile, his eyes glittering midnight set against alabaster skin.

Sarah grunted in spite of herself at the feel of the wall behind her, only to find her blades pinned to the wall over her head by Jareth's own, his body pressing against hers. Blinking she glared up at him, fighting the wave of need that coiled deep within her at the feel of his hips, a traitorous moan slipping past her lips when he swiveled his hips to grind against her. The scent of him surrounded her, pressing in until it was nearly tangible, a caress that seemed to carve its way inside her body and mind, inflaming her further. Leaning in, he dipped his head, a soft growl echoing in her head. Sarah tugged uselessly at her arms, even as her eyes were drawn to the fullness of his lips, hovering near her flesh.

"Yes, you are more worthy than they are...but you made it abundantly clear that you wanted very little do with me once our 'business' concludes, so why should I include you amongst those who are worthy, hmm?" he sneered, his eyes as cold as his words. Breathing in the scent of her arousal and the feel of her angry magic sending electric zaps along his skin, Jareth let himself get caught up once more in the desire to strip her bare and have her, against the wall, screaming his name in the throes of passion.

A sudden burst of pain made him regret his distraction, as Sarah slammed her knee upward with a force he would not have thought her capable of given her size. Dodging around him as he doubled over and stumbled backward, Sarah swung the shorter of her swords, catching him across the cheek and leaving a crimson slice, red drops marring his ethereal features. With a pleased sneer of her own, Sarah twirled her blades and stepped back, balancing lightly on the balls of her feet, as she awaited his an attack she was sure would come. In the space of a blink, she realized her mistake too late, as Jareth recovered far faster than she expected. The elven blades in his hands glowed red with each swing, their sharp edges slicing through the air with vicious force. Panting, Sarah stumbled backward, struggling to block the blows that came faster with each turn, the clang of metal upon metal echoing loudly in the room. With each powerful strike of his blades against hers, she felt her strength fading, sweat dripping into her eyes, which were painfully aware of his intense gaze.

"You are good...but you are no match for me, Sarah," he purred, the soft words managing to be both seductive and poisonous. "I've got a few hundred years on you. You should choose your battles more wisely,  _Precious_."

The next blow jarred Sarah to the soles of her feet, knocking her back against the wall so hard, her head collided against the concrete with a sickening thud. Two deft flicks of his swords sent her blades skittering across the floor, leaving Sarah unarmed and pinned against the wall, with his thigh tight between hers and a glowing black blade coming to rest a hairsbreadth from her exposed throat.

Tilting his head owlishly, Jareth's eyes flickered golden and avian, as his lips curled in a devilish smirk. "Now, maybe with a blade to your throat you'll finally listen to me, Sarah. While I don't mind a bit of violence and bloodshed as foreplay, that is  _not_  why I am here," he murmured, ignoring the way she pushed ineffectively at his chest.

Sarah grunted, shoving against him then falling back against the wall. Whereas earlier she had been able to move him easily, he now felt like pure steel - immovable and hard. The sudden realization that he had been holding back his true strength and skill, made her stomach lurch nervously.

"Stop fighting me, woman!" he growled, his pale eyes narrowing upon hers. "I did not come here to fight with you. I came to apologize."

Startled, Sarah froze, blinking dumbly at him, her mouth agape. "You...what?"

"I'm sorry."

Arching an eyebrow, she glared suspiciously at him. "Come again…?"

With a quiet huff, Jareth shook his head as he answered, "I'm sorry. And before you ask, no I am not possessed. I am quite in my right mind and if you need further proof, I shall say it again... _I am sorry_." Wide emerald eyes blinked slowly, as he lowered the blade from her throat, letting it fade away entirely. The royal regalia flickered, like an old silent film slowly juttering through an ancient projectoc, before it settled once more, leaving Jareth clothed in the mundane trousers and button-down shirt he had worn into the flat.

"Fae don't...they don't apologize," Sarah muttered, pushing hair back from her face as she looked at him, her suspicions written plainly upon her face.

Jareth adjusted his stance to keep her pinned to the wall, the movement of his thigh making her gasp softly and squirm once more. Ignoring the desire to kiss her, Jareth caged her against the wall, with a gloved hand on each side of her head.

"True, it is quite rare for one of my kind to do so. Apologies are usually only offered to close family and friends; and even in those circumstances, to apologize may be viewed as a sign of weakness," he replied, his words once more quiet and oddly calm. "For a Nephilim to apologize to one they hold as claimed is unheard of, yet here I stand... doing just that." Before him, the righteous anger that had fueled her attack visibly melted; Jareth's own irritation fading as well. "Sarah, I did not realize you would take my words to heart, after having made it quite clear that you view me with so little regard."

Sarah's gaze dropped, his words stinging her with her own shame. "I...fuck…" she sighed. "It's not that I don't like you, Jareth. I just… I don't want to be your property. I don't want to lose the life I have built for Toby...and myself. It's...it's not fair."

Feeling the touch of fingers to her forehead, Sarah looked up, wondering at the concern upon his face. A slow warmth spread across her forehead, sending a strange tingling down the back of her head, to lodge at the base of her spine. When he pulled his hand away she was struck by two thoughts at once - he wasn't wearing gloves and there was blood on his fingertips...her blood. Reaching up she felt for the cut on her brow. Even before her fingers met the smooth skin, she knew the cut would no longer be there...he had healed her. Without a word, Jareth ran his bare fingers over the bleeding slices upon her shoulder, the flesh stinging and burning briefly before the heat spread through it again, sending tingling sensations rushing to her fingertips and up the side of her neck.

"No. It isn't fair. But what's done, cannot be undone in this instance Sarah. If it were in my power to grant it, I would, if only to make you happy," he replied, pulling his glove back on and stepping back, leaving her free once more. "And if you want to talk about things not being fair, let's discuss you being unfair to me, shall we?"

"Me? Unfair to you? What the…" she protested, only to be silenced by a raised hand and a sharp look from Jareth, a strange sadness shining in his eyes.

"Yes. You were unfair too, Sarah. Of all the people you could have called for help when you needed it, you did not call for me. Not only that, but you have had my own subjects colluding against me to hide your presence...your very existence, leaving me to think you dead; to grieve the fact that I was forbidden from turning back time to save you. I would hardly call that  _fair_  would you?"

The bitterness in his words struck deep, a cold feeling slithering along Sarah's spine. "I...I didn't know, Jareth. Not until later at least," she muttered, her eyes upon the floor between their feet. "And even when I found out, I never dreamed you would have cared what happened to me."

Frowning, Jareth curled gentle fingers under her chin, tilting her face upward. "You didn't know what, Sarah?"

"I thought it was you," she whispered, pulling her head away from his touch, to hang once more in her misery, as the line of her jaw tightened with the steel of a woman long used to hiding her feelings. "I thought you sent your goblins to kill me."

Pale eyes widening, Jareth stepped back, her words like a blow. "I am many things, Sarah… but a cold-blooded murderer? Is that truly what you think of me?"

"Once upon a time, yes...yes I did," she admitted miserably.

Silence fell between them, stretching interminably, until Sarah thought she might scream just to rid herself of the terrible weight of it.  Jareth glared at her, his pale eyes darkening to obsidian cinders, before he turned on his heel and started for the door. Grabbing the handle, he wrenched it open hard enough that the force bent the hinges, leaving the door hanging askew in the frame. Running across the room, Sarah grabbed his arm, blinking back the stinging flood of tears that threatened to drown her as the torrent of hidden memories assailed her.

"Wait….please. I said I  _did_  think that...at the time," she muttered, her voice cracking as glistening drops began to slide down her cheeks, shimmering over the swirling black lines that adorned her face. "But, I found out that it wasn't true. I...I know better...now."

Unable to bear looking at her, Jareth stared down the hall, ice seeming to envelope his chest with the knowledge that she could think so ill of him. As angry as he had been with her, he would never have hurt a single hair upon her head -- she was the Champion, and even before she won, she was a runner and runners were always protected from harm.

"What happened to you, Sarah? That would make you think I meant you such harm?" he asked, slowly turning his head to look upon her once more.

Her hand dropped from his arm, hanging at her side as her whole body wilted in defeat. For a long while there was silence between them, pressing upon them like a caul, suffocating and grim. Finally, Sarah muttered, "I promised you the story, but… not here. I won't tell that tale here. This is Toby's home. I won't taint it with the…."

Reaching out, Jareth took her hand in his, squeezing it with reassuring pressure, "Words have power, Precious. No one knows it better than I. You do not wish to bring the horrors home to give them purchase within these walls."

The sight of her miserable nod, sent a wave of possessiveness through him, along with a burning desire to find those responsible for her pain and see them rendered to dust. Without thinking about what he was doing, Jareth pulled her close, wrapping her warmly in his arms. Kissing the top of her head, he sighed. "Come, we shall take this conversation elsewhere. You need food, and I suspect we'll both need a stiff drink for the telling of this tale."

Sarah's laughed bitterly and shook her head, "Oh great...The Goblin King and Crown Prince on a date with a mortal, who just happens to be his own Champion. Do you really want to set the gossips tongues wagging, Jareth? Whatever will Princess Antonia and her parents think? Honestly, things are bad enough at the moment without the potential for death threats or worse from them!"

Arching an eyebrow as he studied her face, Jareth leaned back, a wicked grin flashing in his eyes. "And just how do you know about them?"

"Everyone knows that they seek the Goblin Queen's throne for her," Sarah grumbled, her irritation amusing Jareth more than he'd ever dare let on. "To be honest, I suspect the assassination attempt wasn't actually meant to be an assassination. I bet they were operatives for her family, who were merely trailing you to make sure you didn't do anything to 'dishonor' their precious daughter in her marriage suit."

Sarah and Jareth blinked at each other in surprise at her words, the silence broken by Sarah's gasp.

"Fuck…."

"You saw the truth just now, didn't you?" he asked, caressing her cheek, his fingers sensing the tremor that ran through her from the power of the truth she had uncovered.

Sighing, Sarah nodded, her stomach quivering within her as it always did when the truth slammed through her so forcefully. "I guess so. Not like you can prosecute the family over the words of a Truth Seer, particularly one that you want to keep a secret."

"True, but it gives us a place to start. An assassination attempt, whether intended as such or not, is a serious offense" he replied, wrapping his arm around her back and guiding her from the room, a warmth washing through him when she followed along without fighting him - for once. "And for the record, Sarah… I refused their suit. Antonia isn't even worthy of being a scullery maid for Hogspit, let alone to sit upon the Goblin Throne... with me." Pausing outside her bedroom door, Jareth released Sarah. "Get dressed. Wear something appropriate for the Above. I know a place where we will be able to eat well, drink well and where our privacy will be honored."

Looking from her door, to Jareth, Sarah shook her head. "I haven't told this story to anyone other than Zora and Vanya. Does it really matter now that I know that it was not you who tried to kill me, Jareth?"

"Yes...it matters very much, Sarah," he replied, his words quiet, yet steely.

"Why? Because of the claim?"

"No...because you are the Labyrinth Champion.  _My_  Champion. And you  _are_  worthy. That is reason enough for me to seek to end those who acted against you," he hissed, the controlled fury in his words sending a shudder rushing through her.

Glancing up at him, Sarah tucked hair behind her ear, her eyes narrowing questioningly upon his ethereal face. "But, you said you were not a cold-blooded murderer."

"You are my Champion. It would not be murder, it would be righteous retribution," he replied. Turning, Jareth walked down the hall toward the lounge, leaving Sarah to contemplate just how far he would go to protect her now the she belonged to him, if he was prepared to deal death and destruction on those who harmed her in the past.

* * *

 **Author's Note:**  My muse has gone missing so I'm struggling to write at the moment -- still hoping to finish this one by Christmas. As always, please review. :) Next chapter... we finally find out what happened to Sarah that brought her to the Underground!


	12. Chapter 12

**Ch. 12**

Sarah tugged the clammy dampness of the cassock over her head with a tired groan, then balled it up and threw it at the laundry hamper, Folds of scarlet linen spilled haphazardly over the sides. It wasn't until she was standing under the steaming spray of water in the shower that her head cleared enough for her to realize what she was doing.

"Fucking Hell… I swore I'd hurt him if he showed up here again and what do I do when he shows his damn face? I nearly jump him in my own training room, then passively agree to go to dinner with him?! Woman, you need your head examined!"

A resounding thud echoed dully through the pouring water, as Sarah thumped her forehead against the warm tiles of the shower. Slamming her fist on the wall, the shower echoed with a dull cracking sound. Wet hair streaming over her face, Sarah blinked at the splintered lines now scattered over the face of the tile; yet the sight of the broken tile did little to dampen her anger.

"I might as well turn in my cassock and resign from the guard. Whatever happened to 'you have no power over me'?" she muttered bitterly.

But she knew what had happened.

The claim. Amongst other things.

Rubbing restlessly at the tender bite where her neck and shoulder met, growling as it stung and burned from the touch. "For 5 years I've done what I wanted, when I wanted and within a week of Jareth swanning back into my life, I'm letting him dictate what I do? No. No...that shit stops right now! Claim be damned!"

_Or damned by claim…._

With brisk strokes, Sarah scrubbed herself, while her mind whirled through her options - limited as they were.

"Damn Fae and the rules for dealing with them," she grumbled, slamming the soap back into the holder with such force that it shot out of her grasp, sending it flying across the shower to bounce off the other wall, before rebounding off the back of her head with a sharp thud. Retrieving the slippery projectile, Sarah sighed. "I promised him the first night that he could have the story. Getting out of a promise to the Fae is tricky at the best of times. Throw the claim into the mix and anything could happen if I try to renege. Add Jareth to the mix and… fuck! On the plus side, he might just drop me in an oubliette and I wouldn't have to look at his stupid face again."

Sarah shut off the water, slamming the tap closed. She enfolded herself in the fluffy softness of her robe, then padded into the bedroom. The sound of dresser drawers being thrown open and slammed shut carried down the hall, as she tried to decide what to wear. When she found herself contemplating her 'I might get laid tonight' purple lace knickers', Sarah gave a horrified squeak and threw them in the trash bin.

"No...what the Hell is wrong with you?! This is  _not_  a date. This is just the fulfillment of a promise. Nothing more! I don't care what the arrogant ass thinks of how I look," she snapped at her reflection. "Why should I change what I would usually wear just because of him?!"

Sarah grabbed pair of black leather pants from the bottom drawer, and tugged them on, momentarily wondering if the fact that she usually didn't bother with knickers was better or worse than wearing the sexy purple scrap of lace. Grumbling under her breath, she wriggled into the tight leather, cursing Jareth, the pants, and makers of sexy knickers, in no particular order. The pants may have fit like a second skin and threaten to cut her in half when she sat down, but she always found them to be an effective form of 'psychological armor' - and when it came to Jareth, she needed all the armor she could get.

_And a chastity belt wouldn't hurt either…._

Even as she continued to question his morals, ethics, sense of style and ridiculous gravity-defying hair, Sarah snatched her favourite red sweater from the drawer and viciously tugged it over her head. By the time she had finished lacing up her Docs, she knew exactly what she was going to do.

She'd fulfil her promise, but she'd do so on her own terms.

She was going to reclaim her power.

Sarah found Jareth sitting in the living room flipping through a coffee-table book on Japan. Looking up at the sound of her firm footfalls, he smiled, the irritating way he made jeans and a sweater look sexy, making her want to slap him, then kiss him until neither of them could breathe.

"I take it you like Japan?"

Irritation festered inside her at the relaxed way he seemed to make himself at home in her space.

"It's okay… but you're not." She turned away from him and jerked the door of the hall closet open.

In an instant she felt his presence near her elbow, the faint teasing sensation of his magic changing from it's usual relaxed warmth to electrified tension, like a multitude of tiny ant bites that stung the exposed flesh of her neck and face.

"And just what is that supposed to mean."

"You're not dressed for travelling, at least not my way," she laughed, her amusement at the strength of his reaction giving her words a chiming quality. Sarah thrust a black motorcycle helmet at him. "I'm driving. You'll need that. A leather coat would be more appropriate too. Your wool dress coat, while sexy as Hell," she said, casting an appraising eye over him in a way that made Jareth's blood thrum within him, almost distracting him from her words, "...is not suitable for sitting on the back of my bike."

Jareth looked dumbly at the helmet, then at Sarah, his brain finally catching up to what she was saying. "A motor bike. You have  _got_  to be kidding."

"Nope. Not kidding. You are hopeless on the subway and I hate taxis. So, I'm driving. Why? Do you have a problem riding pillion with a woman driving?" Sarah set the hangers dancing on the closet rail as she plucked her favourite leather jacket from its spot. A low grunt from Jareth set her lips quirking, when she stepped back, dropping her elbow into his stomach then turning around to slip her jacket on.

"Oh...excuse me. I didn't know you were there."

"Lying wench."

Jareth's gaze narrowed, washing down her body and stopping at her chest. Sarah made quick work of the buckles that fastened the jacket, then poked him in the chest. "My eyes are up here, asshole."

His eyes crept upward until they locked on hers, crystalline pools of ice that chilled her blood. If his gaze hadn't rattled her, the dark promise in his voice would have. "I bogged an entire garrison for taking that jacket. Just  _how_  did you get it... _Precious_?" he demanded, stepping toward her.

Swallowing down the vague sense of unease, Sarah raised her chin and gave him a sly smile, her eyes dancing like emerald fires, merry and glittering.

"Oh, this  _old_  thing? Inara gave it to me as part of my payment for the little job I did for her. She said it looked far better on me than the person it was made for.

"Indeed," Jareth murmured, the single word edged with a steel that made Sarah's heart race and her stomach flutter, as the Goblin King of her memory peeked through his cool facade, reminding her that he was a being of infinite power and passion. "She was right, it looks better on you. Although personally, I would far rather see you wearing it and nothing else."

Sarah's skin seemed to burn under his gaze, every nerve coming alive, while she fought down the urge to lean toward him. Shaking the rush of libidinous thoughts from her head, she smirked. "And she imbued it to protect me against both bullets...and Fae wiles. I guess we'll see how well it works tonight, won't we?"

"Believe me,  _Champion_ , if I wished to beguile you into my bed, no imbued object would stop it," he purred stepping toward the door of the flat. With each step, his form seemed to twist out of focus, until the wool dress coat was transformed into a black leather motorcycle jacket, paired with leather pants that clung to his body.

Groaning inwardly, Sarah palmed the keys to her bike and followed him toward the door, enjoying the way the leather slid sensuously over his ass with each step.

Jareth paused at the door, giving a slow tilt of his head as he peered at her, his eyes glittering mischievously. "We both know that I wouldn't need to bespell you to have you writhing under me once more. You crave it...even now as you fight it."

Clenching her teeth, Sarah tugged the door open with a vicious pull. Leave it to Jareth to take her challenge and run with it.

"Kinda takes all the fun out of it," she muttered to herself, pulling the apartment door shut with a loud slam.

**~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~**

As irritating as he was, Jareth was more knowledgeable about Aboveground food than he was about transportation methods. Sure, he nearly overbalanced the bike several times on their way to dinner, but in the end, he had led her seamlessly into Little Tokyo. Sarah parked the bike in an alleyway behind a small sushi bar that would look perfectly at home in the Shinjuku District of Tokyo.

"Your bike is bespelled, clever..." he chuckled, as he dismounted. Jareth tugged the helmet from his head and ran a gloved hand through the flattened strands of hair, fluffing them up until they draped almost artfully over his forehead.

Sarah shrugged, tucking her own helmet under her arm. "Considering my line of work, most of my stuff is spelled, charmed or imbued in one way or another."

"And those leather pants you have painted onto your body?" he asked, casting an appraising glance over her legs.

"Imbued with 'Not-again-in-this-lifetime-so-don't-get-any-ideas-Goblin-King."

The sound of Jareth's laughter rang out against the blackened bricks of the alleyway, a rich baritone that made Sarah's ears and cheeks burn with a heat that spread rapidly through her body _. 'Stay strong! No more fucking the Goblin King. Done. No more. Finito!'_  she scolded herself, even as the familiar fullness took shape low in her belly.

"Challenge accepted, Precious," Jareth replied with a predatory purr, his smile showing enough pointed teeth to make Sarah's knees wobble. "This way."

Jareth took her hand, leading her past the rubbish bins and broken down boxes, toward a yellow door reading 'Tusuku Sushi Sen'. Sarah cast a quizzical glance at his unreadable expression, as he pressed the buzzer next to the door. Inside the building, she could hear the clanging of metal pans, and many voices shouting in Japanese. Above them, the neon lights adorning the buildings in Little Tokyo flickered and hummed, bathing the street and even the dingy alley in muted pink, yellow and green. A moment later the door pushed outward, nearly knocking Sarah down if it hadn't been for Jareth deftly moving her to the side, until she found her back pressed tightly against his chest - and his hips pressed against the curve of her bum.

Sarah's cheeks flushed further at the feel of him, her traitorous mind offering any number of reasons why his body fit so nicely against her own. The pink tinge of her face was amplified by the neon glow of the buzzing sign above them.

Wiping his hands on his blue and white striped apron, the bald Japanese man who answered the door bowed deeply. "Ahh! Heika-san! You honor us with your presence."

Beside her, Jareth gave a slight bow, his words soft, "Thank you, Reku. This is Sarah. I promised her the best Japanese food New York has to offer."

Reku grinned and bobbed a bow toward Sarah, his bespeckled face lighting up as he beamed at her. Motioning them into the kitchen, Reku clapped his hands and shouted, then gestured toward a blue curtain with stenciled waves printed on it.

An elderly woman crept through the curtain, her pale pink kimono pristinely secured around her, with a scarlet obi. She ignored Reku as he brusquely instructed several cooks. Reku waved his arms and shouted orders at the cooks, then resumed his duties behind the sushi bar, leaving Sarah and Jareth in the care of the old woman. Nodding at Jareth, she bowed as low as her stooped figure would allow, a broad smile giving her dark eyes a glittering aura.

"Irasshaimase, Heika-san," she murmured, leaning heavily on her cane as she pushed herself upright once more. "Come with me."

Her steps were slow, yet she led them through the curtain into a narrow hall. At the end of the hall she slid a decorated paper door open, revealing a comfortable private dining area. A low table of teak sat in the middle of the tatami mat the surface glistening with the effects of years of careful polishing. The table was ringed with thick floor cushions and heavy backrests.

She gestured for them to sit, her wizened eyes crinkling at the corners. "Would you like your usual?"

Sarah bent and unlaced her boots, leaving them on the rack outside the door, before stepping onto the tatami mat. She watched Jareth curiously, as she settled on one of the firm cushions, kneeling in the customary fashion.

Nodding, Jareth returned the old woman's smile. "Yes. My usual. I'll also have a large flask of the special nihonshu that Reku keeps for me. And you can bring a small carafe of plum wine for my guest."

Rolling her eyes, Sarah shook her head. "I'm not a child or some lightweight, Jareth- _san_ ," she snapped, then smiled at the old woman, who regarded the fiery brunette with interest. "I'll have what he is having."

The little woman bowed briefly then backed out of the small tatami room, her amused chuckle echoing back toward them.

Still irritated by his assumption, Sarah settled back on her cushion, folding her legs to the side comfortably. Seemingly oblivious to her frustration, Jareth plucked a glittering crystal from the air, setting it to spin and roll across his gloved hands, the light glinting and morphing over the curved skin of the orb. After several moments, he flicked it upward.

Sarah pursed her lips, watching as it seemed to pause in the air, catching the light of the paper lanterns and twisting it before throwing it down toward Sarah and Jareth. The crystal began to grow, expanding until it had surrounded both of them, and the table - then it burst. Instinctively Sarah flinched at the popping sound, her green eyes darting about expecting a shower of glitter that didn't come.

"That will ensure no one outside of our space hears our conversation. You could scream loud enough to wake the dead," he added with a suggestive smirk. "Much like you did last night."

His wicked chuckle continued as the elderly woman slid the paper door aside and entered the tatami room once more, a black lacquered tray in her hands. Smiling quietly, she nodded at Sarah, picking up a white roll with a pair of bamboo tongs.

"Not going to happen, Goblin King," Sarah grumbled, accepting the rolled washcloth from the older woman with a warm smile. "Osoreirimasu Okami-san".

Marveling at Sarah's knowledge of both the language and polite forms of address, Jareth accepted a steaming washcloth from the old woman, murmuring softly, "Osoreirimasu, Rika-sama."

Rika's wrinkled cheeks flushed pink at Jareth's term of address, and she rattled off several sentences in Japanese before disappearing.

With a vicious snap of her wrist, Saran unfurled the hot cloth, quickly running it over her hands. Jareth watched her,his eyes sparkling at the way she meticulously rolled the used cloth back up, leaving it looking just as it had when she had taken it from Rika. Finishing with his own cleansing, he folded the now cold cloth and placed it aside.

"I didn't know you could speak Japanese," he commented, finding the way she fidgeted with the rolled washcloth, oddly endearing given the fierce face she showed the rest of the world.

Before she could answer, Rika returned, bowing as she placed a small cup before each of them, then filled them from the warm flask. Setting the flask on the small candle-powered warmer, she left them alone once more.

Sarah picked up her cup and raised it briefly, meeting Jareth's curious smile.

"Kanpai," she murmured, then downed the heated sake in two big gulps. A violent tremor rushed through her as the alcohol burned down her throat, the heated warmth settling in her belly. With a gasp, she rubbed her eyes. "Shit! What kind of sake is this?"

"I would have warned you, but you seemed adamant you would drink with me," he laughed, raising his own glass in salute, before downing the contents. Sarah watched eagerly, a burst of irritation flooding her at the fact that he didn't even flinch when the strong spirits hit his stomach. "This is made in the traditional Japanese way, but is made with black rice grown in the Goblin Kingdom, and flavoured with fermented peaches from my orchard."

At the mention of peaches, Sarah felt her stomach lurch uncomfortably. "Figures," she muttered, picking up the flask and refilling his cup, then replacing flask without refilling her own. "You and your damn peaches."

"Now, now… I don't share peaches from my private orchard with just anyone, Sarah," he purred, refilling her cup. "Sip it this time and you'll find the effect far more pleasant."

Jareth bit back a laugh at the way Sarah glared at her full cup. Judging by the frustrated suspicion in her eyes he didn't need to be a mind-reader to know what she was thinking - as much as she didn't want to have anything to do with his peaches, she was too stubborn to request a different drink.

"So, care to share how you have come to speak Japanese, and understand a bit of the culture if the way you refilled my glass is any indication?"

Raising the small cup to her lips, Sarah sipped the shimmering liquid, surprised to find a warming sweetness this time, rather than the searing heat and peppery taste that assaulted her on the first try. She took her time, savoring the drink before she answered, her green eyes narrowing at the insinuation that she would not be worldly.

"Not all of my clients are from the Nether. Some are mortals who have various experience or dealings with the Nether, often because they did something stupid or made the mistake of believing a Netherworld being." Sipping her sake once more, Sarah relaxed onto her cushion. "I did some work for a Japanese company last year that made the unfortunate mistake of agreeing to do some work for a Netherworld kingdom - unfortunately, they didn't know they were dealing with immortals when the king's chamberlain approached them and their legal team didn't understand the fine print before the contracts were signed. As you can imagine, unpleasantness ensued. I was hired to figure out who they were really dealing with and to find a loophole to get them out of the contract."

"And did you?"

He toyed with the small cup in front of him, as he watched the brunette smirk at the memory. Although her strong-will irritated him, Jareth could not deny that it gave her an intriguing quality, particularly when she talked about her 'work' — such that it was.

"Yeah...I did. Though in the end, neither party was particularly happy with the outcome. The King in question lost out on his summer home, but the business lost one of their best customers over it. Turns out their best customer was the one who recommended them to the King and when they reneged on the contract, the King was...well...let's just say he was put out about it. The person who recommended them won't be doing any business with anyone Above or Below for a  _very_  long time."

Jareth watched the light in her eyes fade a bit, as Sarah fell quiet. Mimicking Jareth without really thinking about it, she played with the small cup, her fingers dancing over the fine porcelain. He did not need the ability to read minds to know what she was thinking of. If what Zora had told him in his throne room was to be believed, the tale of how Sarah came to be an Underground assassin was not a happy one.

"You don't have to tell me, Sarah," he said, placing a small blue crystal on the table between them. "There are other methods."

Pursing her lips irritably, Sarah gave the crystal a sharp flick of her fingers. The crystal shot across the table toward him and would have fallen to the floor, had he not reacted quickly and caught it.

"No. If we do this, we do it. I'll tell you. I'm just not drunk enough yet. There are parts of it that I don't like to think about unless I'm numb."

Jareth spun the small crystal through his fingers, then tossed it into the air where it vanished without a trace. "Far be it for me to deny you liquid courage if that is what it will take, Sarah."

Plucking the cup from her hands, Jareth refilled it, then placed it in front of her. Sarah stared at the cup a moment before picking it up, her eyes darkening, like summer storm clouds easing over the horizon.

"I suppose it's best to begin as all fairy tales beg," she sighed, then picked up the cup, admiring the way the liquid shimmered in the light.

"And how is that?"

"Once upon a time…."

**~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~**

Jareth leaned back against the cushion, staring at the cherry blossom print upon the silk wallcovering. Across from him, Sarah tried to pick up the last piece of sushi, her body weaving from side-to-side as she giggled drunkenly, her chopsticks clicking uselessly. After missing the sushi several times, she gave up and poured herself another cup of sake. Downing it in one gulp, she dropped her chopsticks on the empty plate, the wooden implements clattering loudly in the confines of the tatami room. Sarah closed one eye, the tip of her tongue poking between her lips as she zeroed in on the last bit of sushi, finally managing to pick it up with her fingers at last.

Considering the tale she had relayed, Jareth was somewhat amazed she could be so casual around him at all. He was sure any other human would be terrified of Fae or Nephilim. The faint bitterness of regret crept up the back of his throat, making his stomach churn with distaste. He hadn't known what would happen when she won for the simple reason that no one had ever beaten the Labyrinth before. But knowing or not, didn't change one simple fact...

It was all his fault.

Indirectly, perhaps...but it was his fault just the same. Her time in his world had imprinted itself upon her. Every cell bore the signature of his world and that level of imprinting would be impossible for others of his world to miss.

In short, she won back her brother and in the process made herself a target.

While he was unsure what beings attempted to kill her, Jareth was positive he now understood why - her power.

Whether she realized it or not, Sarah was already intuned with the ebb and flow of magic before she ever set foot in the Underground. He had felt the way his own magic sought her out the moment he stepped into her parent's bedroom. It wasn't the first time the Goblin King had dealt with runners who had magic or magical affinity, so it never occurred to him to wonder just what effect her time in his Kingdom would have upon her. Every hour...every second she spent in his world modified her very being, making her something more than a 'mere' human, not that she was ever a 'mere' anything to begin with. Whatever innate power she may have held had been multiplied, and unknowing, she would have been emitting a low-level magical signature ever since.

And she wasn't the only Williams sibling affected. Apparently, Toby too, soaked up the magic of the Labyrinth, inherently changing him in ways that were imperceptible to mortals, but stood out like a beacon to those of the Underground.

Had Jareth known, he would have taken precautions to protect them. The Labyrinth was a test. He may play the cruel villain, but at the end of the day, he would never seek to harm those who ran the Labyrinth or those he was charged to care for.

Jareth pinched the bridge of his nose, fighting against the rush of anger that filled him... anger at himself for leaving both Sarah and Toby defenseless. Anger at those who sought to harm her.

Even still, he marveled that the very magic that put her in danger, protected her when it counted.

"Did you kill the men who attacked you?"

Sarah looked up at him, as she poured the last of the sake into her cup.

"I think I did. I mean, I didn't stick around to find out. They came at me with some wicked looking blades, slashing." Sarah rubbed absently at her forearm, then neck, where the faint pink tinge of a scar peeked above the collar of his leather jacket. "Caught me three or four times. Hurt like Hell at the time. I remember screaming a wish for help, then the room lit up like a lightning flash and the next thing, one was laying on the ground, bleeding from his ears, and the other was gone - Poof. Nothing left but ash."

Shaking her head, she dipped her finger in the sake, then sucked the golden drop from her finger tip before continuing. "Anyway, during the fight they had, I don't know… cast a spell or whatever it is you all do. Instead of my room, I was in a wooded clearing, with the one guy laying on the ground. There were a bunch of others in the clearing fighting. I don't know how long I stood there like an idiot watching them. Then I realized they were fighting a woman and I got mad. Maybe it was a delayed reaction to what had happened to me. Or maybe it was shock, but I just held my hands out and screamed. Then… BANG...another flash of light and the 'bad guys' were laid out on the ground, bleeding from their eyes and ears and, that's when I saved Zora by accident and earned myself a place in her clan."

The paper door slid open and Rika shuffled in carrying a tray with a pot of hot tea and two dishes of green tea ice cream. She spoke in rapid-fire Japanese as she put the ice cream in front of them. Still speaking to Jareth, she picked up the delicate tea pot in shaking hands and poured them each a cup of tea.

Sarah snickered behind her hand watching Rika blush brightly as Jareth spoke quietly to her. When the elderly woman left, Sarah giggled, waggling her eyebrows at Jareth.

"I think you have a girlfriend."

"Oh? Change your mind about me, did you, Precious?" he asked, offering her a spoon.

Sarah snatched the spoon from his fingers and dug into the ice cream in front of her, snorting softly. "Not me, jackass. Rika. She blushes every time you talk to her."

"She knows of my kind. For me to grace their restaurant is considered a great boon and a source of luck," he replied, scooping ice cream into his mouth. "Of course, I may have granted them a little 'gift' in that department. They are good people."

"So are Zora and Vanya," Sarah added, then licked ice cream from her spoon, her forehead creasing as she shook her head. "They tried to get me home again, but couldn't open a portal. Zora tried to call in a favor even, and it failed."

Jareth groaned, the sudden memory assaulting him. "Blast and damn… had I known that is what she wanted the portal orb for I would have helped more." Thumping his hand against the table he growled. "Damn woman refused to say why she needed it, so I refused her request."

"It's not her fault, Jareth. I made her swear not to tell you - I still thought you were the one who tried to have me killed. It wasn't until three years ago that I discovered you weren't the one."

Sarah picked up her tea cup, sighing as the steaming liquid heated the cup, warming her hands. She tilted her head, her emerald eyes narrowing as she regarded the frustration etched on Jareth's face. After several long moments, he shook his head.

"She came to me a second time four years ago. I should have known there was something she wasn't telling me when she made her request." Seeing the curious look on Sarah's face, he sighed. "Zora approached me formally during High Court, her petition announced before the assembly. It is highly unusual for a reigning monarch to petition another during High Court, those sorts of negotiations are usually done behind closed doors."

"Political and physical machinations, you mean."

Jareth chuckled, his head bobbing in agreement. "Yes. You are no stranger to our world now. You know that many royal negotiations and agreements are sealed with items of value or alliances sealed in blood…"

"Or sex," she stated, her emerald eyes glinting in challenge.

"Or sex."

"So that is how she got the observation crystal. I always wondered," Sarah mused.

Rolling his eyes, Jareth huffed. "We didn't seal our negotiation with sex, Sarah. My physical relationship with Zora ended decades ago."

Sarah smirked and swirled her spoon through the ice cream before sucking it clean. "I thought the crystal was one of yours. I had never seen anyone else use crystals as a catalyst for their magic and from what I Zora, only the Goblin King's line use crystals in that manner. But when she returned with it after that High Court session, I was afraid to ask."

"Yes, she said that she needed to monitor kindred who were lost to the Above. I questioned why that would be, but she refused to answer."

Frowning Sarah, shook her head, her thoughts starting to clear as the tea took hold. With each sip, the fuzziness of the alcohol faded a bit - another perk bestowed upon her by Inara. Sarah was not sure whether Inara had always known who she was and her connection to the Labyrinth, but she often wondered since the older woman had essentially adopted her as some sort of real life fairy-godmother.

"So why did you give it to her if you didn't like the answer?"

Jareth's shoulders lifted in a shrug. "I owed her a favor. It was a small enough thing to ask."

Sarah reached into her jacket and pulled out a small green crystal, that began to pulse as she sat it on the table in front of Jareth. Within it purple mist began to form, swirling around to coat the side of the crystal nearest him, as if seeking the magic from which it was formed.

"Then I should thank you. The crystal is what allowed me to know Toby was in danger. If it weren't for your crystal, I would not have been able to save him. I'd have lost everything and everyone that ever mattered to me."

**~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~**

Jareth's thoughts tumbled over themselves, fighting for dominance as he watched Sarah's futile attempts to pick up the sake carafe to refill her own glass. She had done as he asked and told him how she had come to be Underground and trained as a High Court assassin, yet while her words assuaged his curiosity, he was unprepared for just how much she had suffered in the intervening years.

It irritated him that she believed he had been the one who sought her assassination, yet he could understand why she would assume that. Under the circumstances, falling in with the Volyenko clan was possibly the best outcome for her. The clan adopted her and made her their own, training her in their ways, as well as teaching her to defend herself. Of all the fighters he had known and had the pleasure of going into battle with in his lifetime, those of the Volyenko clan were the most capable, not to mention vicious - if anyone other than himself had to train her to survive in this world, he was glad it had been people he trusted.

Even with her training, she put herself in danger time and time again, her body injured and violated in ways that made his blood churn with a desire to seek retribution. The fact that she ever needed to fight for her life for any reason galled him for reasons he could not name, but the knowledge that the same beings that attacked her returned two years later and killed her parents as they tried to protect Toby, that knowledge enraged him - not that he could let her see.

Of course, at the moment, Sarah was not likely to notice much of anything, her senses rendered dumb by his special sake blend.

Sarah growled at her hand, closing one eye and willing herself to focus on the sake cup in front of her. Flicking her tongue over her lips, the faint taste of peaches assailed her, setting the craving for more of Jareth's sake burning inside her. Her lips pursed, she stared at the cup, attempting to determine which of the four cups was the real cup. Lurching slightly, she snatched at the cup on the far right, only to find herself grasping at air.

A gloved hand breached her line of vision, Jareth's fingers grasping the carafe and moving it further out of her reach.

"No fair," she protested, snatching it back and managing to refill her glass as well as his own.

"You say that so often…" Jareth began, only to be cut off by Sarah's slurred words.

"Drink with me, Jareshhh. I did ash you ash...ash...wanted and told you everything. Th-the leastht you could do is drink with me. S'not nice to let la-ladies drink alone."

"Darling, you are a trained assassin, you are no lady."

Sarah's lower lip jutted out. "You...you're...a prick, you know that Jareshhh."

Tilting his head, Jareth regarded her, amused by the way she still stood against him, even in her inebriated state.

"Yes, I have known several people to make that observation over the years."

Sarah blinked, her frown deepening. "I can so to be a lady, if...if I wannnted to. But...but being a Red Guard is...is more fun."

Turning her attention back to the table, she pouted, ignoring Jareth. Her cup shouldn't be dancing; that much Sarah was sure of. Yet here it was...dancing. Or more precisely, wobbling back and forth on the table. Frowning she reached for it again, her hand passing through two of the four sake cups she saw, before she managed to grasp the real one. A triumphant grin tugged at her lips, until she tried to raise the glass to her lips and discovered that it was not the sake cups that were moving, but herself. Wobbling on her cushion, she grasped the little cup in both hands and slurped at the contents, unaware of Jareth's amused smirk.

"Do your pe..peeeeeches always… always make things dance?"

"Only when I want them to. You, dear Sarah, are drunk."

Sarah sniffed and shook her head, groaning as the three Jareth's on the opposite side of the table waved side-to-side. She shut her eyes tightly and sighed when the room stopped feeling like it was moving.

"I have drunk Mountain Trolls under the table… wh...why would this...this…peach-demon-sake aff...affect me so much?" She demanded, opening her eyes to glare at him, only to regret it instantly, when the three Jareth's were joined by a fourth. "You kn...kno...know… under ordinary chur...chooo...circumstances, I could think of better ways to enjoy two...or more...Jareth's, without them laughing at me." Pouting now, she gestured with her cup, spilling sake over her hand, the faintly shimmering droplets glowing briefly, before rolling down her arm. "Stop laughing at me!"

Jareth plucked the cup from Sarah's hand, with a shake of his head pale eyes glittered with laughter as she attempted to snatch the cup from his hand. She wobbled briefly, then fell over onto the cushions.

"Oops!" She giggled.

"Okay Precious, that's quite enough sake for you. You've fulfilled your part of the bargain and told me your story."

Silence met his words, broken a moment later by a soft snore.


End file.
